Divergence
by Aeria Swordlancer
Summary: [Alternate History] Because a single flick of destiny's hand can change your story forever. An alternate reading of 'Naruto' based on Rin's survival after being turned into the Sanbi's jinchuuriki. Chapter 3: Nagato holds onto the frayed ends of hope. A sinister shadow looms in the distance.
1. The Ambition in those Young Eyes

**(A/N): Okay. So this is my first project in the Naruto fandom, so a big shout-out to all the shinobis and kunoichis in here! The last few chapters have been a massive roller-coaster ride of emotions for me and I couldn't help but come up with my own 'what-if?' scenario. And there's no denying the fact that I've a ginormous reservoir of Team Minato feels in my heart that is at the verge of bursting out.**

**So, as mentioned in the summary, this story is going to follow canon up to a certain point, and then diverge from it based on an incident that doesn't occur in the manga. Yes. That would be Rin surviving after being turned into a jinchuuriki. I'll try following canon as much as I can, but there's a limit to how much I can take from the manga. This story's an AU (Alternate History, rather), so get ready to read things that you might have never come across in the real storyline.**

**Also, I find it important to state that I'm going to update this fic sporadically. I've like five on-going fics to focus on along with this one at the moment, but I'll try doing my best here. So please be patient, because it'll certainly be rewarding. **

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******Edit (30th December, 2013): You can find the TIMELINE for this fic on my profile page.**

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**Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.**

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**-Divergence-**

**By Aeria Swordlancer**

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**-Chapter One-**

**The Ambition in those Young Eyes**

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_Dainiji Ninkai Taisen| Amegakure|_

_The air was thick with grime and stench, dust swirling about in hazy patterns across the rugged landscape that stretched for an eternity before his eyes. Every once in a while, something nauseous would course through his veins, making him feel like he was ready to spill his guts out into the open for the nth time in a day. Howls and cries pervaded his senses for the better part of the day, ringing deep enough in his ears to make an impact so lethal, that he was afraid he would never be able to get past the horror that it brought along with itself, every night that he tried to get himself some sleep._

"_Nagato, honey, have some bread," he heard his mother say on a particularly tempestuous day, a fear-stricken whisper amidst the chaos that raged outside the four walls of their little abode. "You haven't had anything since last night." She tried sounding assuring, as if they weren't just in the middle of a mindless massacre. _

_The little boy with blood red hair turned to look up at the pale and sunken face of his mother. Her smile had not reached her eyes even once in the two months since they had found themselves in the heat of turmoil. _

"_Mamma hasn't had anything in four days," he said simply, thinking of it as a justification for his mother to have the bite instead of him. Even the angry grumble issuing from his stomach couldn't stop him from thinking otherwise._

_The lady let out a sigh and reached out to her son with a sad smile on her lips._

"_Mamma's not hungry," she lied, breaking the bread up into little pieces to make it easier for her son to chew on. The dough was coarse and stale, but it was the best her husband could afford during a time when war was threatening to tear their country apart. "Besides, how will old mamma and papa get out of this mess if their son doesn't eat well and become strong enough to fight the enemies?" she added, touching upon that little place in her son's heart that still thought of being a hero as the most interesting profession one could ever get into._

_The young boy named Nagato let his eyes settle on his mother's, as if gauging the depth of her statement using all the experience that his seven year old self could gather. While young and inexperienced in a world where one could never claim to have learned enough, he'd seen enough life with his little eyes to say that he understood the ways of the world. _

"_Mamma's lying," he said in a flat tone, eyes never leaving his mother's. "There are no heroes in this world. Kimiko died yesterday." He bit his lip as he remembered seeing the severed hand of his friend from next door. Adventurous and ambitious, Kimiko had proudly claimed to have gathered enough skills to fight Ame's enemies. With a stick in hand, and harsh words in her mouth, she'd been ready to set off to fight against the invaders who'd disturbed Ame's peace. To Nagato's horror, debris fell out of nowhere on her house yesterday before she could so much as set a toe outside, crushing her body and ambitions at the same time. Being the only person that Nagato knew who'd claimed to have enough guts to face the enemy, seeing her severed hand under the giant rock had been somewhat of an eye opener for him._

_The lady averted her gaze for a second and tried stopping the tears of desperation from rolling out. This wasn't the time to let her heart out into the open._

"_Listen to your mamma, Nagato," she said, hands gripping the bread tightly. Her lips trembled, but she'd enough will power to stop herself from giving up. "Please."_

_Nagato turned to look at his moth eaten sandals, a frown upon his lips. The grumble from his stomach was loud enough to be heard across the street._

"_I can't-" he began, his fingers gripped into tight fists behind his back as he found his determination wearing thin. The sweet smell of bread was pervading his senses, making it impossible for him to focus on anything but eating it till he satisfied his hunger. Yet, somewhere deep within his heart, the guilt of snatching away the same opportunity from his parents' grasp was troubling him to the point of torture._

_Before he could figure out what had happened, his mother had wrapped an arm around his slightly quivering shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace as she finally let the tears out._

"_Eat, my child," she whimpered into the crook of his bony neck, bread crumbs raining down upon his tattered tunic. "You're a kind boy, Nagato. Way too considerate for your own good. You've to learn to survive in this harsh world, my son. I hate to give such a teaching to my own child, but circumstances have tied my hands. You've to think about your own good, too." A little sniff followed soon enough._

_Nagato found himself biting his lips to prevent his own tears from pouring out, but there was limit to his self-restraint. Letting it go in the warm embrace of his mother, the young boy sobbed as a compensation for all those days that he had forced himself to put up a brave, apathetic front. Words failed him as he cried incessantly into his mother's arms, gruesome images from the past few days, playing before his eyes._

_It was funny how war could freeze up the moments in your life as if they'd been paused for you to relive. Every minute, every second is like an eternity, going around in a loop until the very essence of it is embedded deep into your mind, making it impossible for you to escape from the impact that the sheer cruelty of it makes on your psyche. And for a kid still learning to gather his memories and consciousness of the world into a coherent whole, such an experience could burn into his memory as the only existing reality of life._

_A reality that seems to never go beyond the cycle of dearth, death and destruction._

"_Alright then," the lady, who had blood red hair like her son, said, wiping away her tears with the back of her dress sleeve. "If I agree to share this bread with you, you'll have it then, won't you?"_

_Nagato's eyes brightened within a beat of the heart. This seemed like an appropriate way out of their dilemma._

"_Okay," he mumbled, although, he was still aiming at having the smaller portion of the bread. "We can do that."_

_With a smile that finally seemed genuine to his knowing eyes, Nagato's mother popped the first piece into her son's mouth, proceeding to take the second one for herself. The bread was a little brittle and dry, as had been visible from the appearance itself, but even leftovers acquired from government distribution carts were like gold amidst the rags to them at this point._

_Nagato chowed down on his share with enthusiasm that he tried tamping down. Having something edible in his mouth after a long day and half of hiding was like being infused with fresh air after spending months inside a dingy tunnel. In his mind, he thanked whichever god that could be listening to him for the meal that was so difficult to gather these days._

"_It's delicious, isn't it?" the lady asked, as she proceeded to put the third bite into her son's mouth. Nagato nodded enthusiastically._

_Mother and son feasted upon that little piece of bread as if it were their three coarse meal. Even the meagre size of it couldn't shake their delight at having consumed something concrete after a long time._

_Unfortunately, as is the case during wars, their moment of peace didn't last long._

_Through a secret door that he'd constructed at the onset of the war for safety purposes, a man in his thirties emerged with a scroll in hand, a look of urgency on his face._

"_Rumiko!" he exclaimed, proceeding to forage through drawers to collect all the valuables that he could get his hands on. "The village has been surrounded. We need to get of this place as soon as we can," spreading the scroll across the dilapidated dining table, he proceeded to seal all of their belongings into that massive piece of fabric._

_Nagato found it difficult to swallow the bread in his mouth._

_Whipping back around to look at her terror-stricken son, Uzumaki Rumiko wrapped him up in her emaciated, yet strong arms, as if to protect him from the outside world. Scooping him up in a powerful movement, she rushed over to the trap door that would deliver them to the other side of the village. _

"_How many of them Kotaro?" she asked as she observed her husband finalising the seals in a swift movement from her vantage point._

"_It's an entire unit. Around twenty Konoha nins from what I could gather."_

_Nagato's ears pricked at the sound of that village's name. He had been hearing it over and over again for the past two months in a way that made him resent its very existence._

"_We need to hurry Rumiko. They have-" but Minazuki Kotaro never got the opportunity to complete his sentence as the next second, a massive blast rattled the very ground the three stood on. _

"_No!" Rumiko cried in distress, arms wrapping her son even tighter than before. A peculiar sound rang through the corridor leading to the room they were in, signalling the undoing of the traps that they had set around their house._

"_I'll hold them off!" Kotaro declared, throwing the scroll in his wife's direction as he extracted three kunais from the depths of his cloak._

"_You take Nagato and run!"_

_Nodding sharply to show her bitter acceptance of her husband's plan of action, Rumiko turned around with a heavy heart and opened the trap door with hands that refused to stabilise. _

"_Everything will be alright, honey," she whispered into her son's ears, her voice shaky and agitated, breath coming out in short bursts._

_Nagato whimpered, but nodded nonetheless. He'd enough faith in his parents to know that they were capable of handling the enemies themselves. _

_With a final glance in the direction of her husband, who was bracing himself for the fight to come, Uzumaki Rumiko dived into the dark tunnel with only one thought in her head. She would most certainly reach the other end with only her son to keep her company._

_Gulping to tamp down the anxiety and guilt that had surfaced upon making this realisation, Rumiko prepared to belt down the tunnel, only to stop dead in her tracks when she heard the sharp groan of her husband falling prey to the enemies above. Soon enough, heavy footfalls sounded over their heads as the predators came swarming into their house, probably trying to sniff out their prey._

_Rumiko could see when end was upon her._

_Putting her son back on his feet, she gripped him fiercely by the shoulders, and sat on her knees to look straight into his eyes._

_Eyes that she knew had great potential._

"_All my life, I've kept you as far away from the rest of the world as possible," she began, her voice determined yet flailing. A small lump seemed to have developed in her throat._

"_And while I did what I had to to keep you away from hands that would have only snatched you from me for selfish purposes, I've to tell you something very important today. Listen to your mother carefully, Nagato."_

"_Outside this little place that you call home is a world that is both evil and good. There will be people who will only think of themselves and try to get your _gift _for their own betterment. But, there will also be those who will love you and accept you for who you are. Time will teach you how to differentiate between the two. But when you finally learn how to make the difference, stick to the good that the world has to offer and cherish it with all your heart. Its proportion to the evil might be small, but it's worth it for what it is in the end." She bit her lip, as if trying to say something more, add a few more lines to what she assumed were her final words to her son, but the lump seemed to have grown with every passing second. The footfalls were practically thundering above their heads by this point, and she knew what it was that she'd to do._

"_Go, my child," she said finally, embracing her son for the final time and handing him the scroll that her husband had passed onto her. "Take this route and run as fast as your legs can carry you. You'll find yourself on the other side of the village. Take up the road that leads north and you'll find yourself in a forest that has not yet been infiltrated by the enemy forces. Keep going north and you'll probably come across Ame's base camp from where our supplies come. Good luck, my child. Mamma loves you." A quick kiss to the little boy's forehead and the lady was off, climbing up the steep ladder with a kunai that she'd extracted from the sleeve of her dress. _

_Nagato, however, had frozen on the spot. With feet refusing to budge an inch, hands heavy with the gigantic scroll that was all that he'd been left with, the little boy stood terror-stricken in the dark tunnel, his heart beat loud enough to be heard by those monsters moving around in his house. _

"_Papa's gone. Mamma's fighting," he whispered to himself, eyes locked onto something indiscernible in the distance, as if the dark spot ahead held answers to all of his questions. From the rooms above, he could hear his mother's cry as she charged at the enemy – plenty of them, he could figure – and the inevitable bangs and crashes that followed. And as he stood listening to the horror that was the ordeal taking place just a few metres away, Nagato had no idea how his mother could have thought that the world had any good in it._

_From what he'd gathered so far, the world was only full of people who lived to kill._

"_Mamma…" he began, his feet moving on their own accord as he proceeded towards the steep staircase that his mother had taken just a few seconds ago. Although he didn't have a kunai on him to protect him from whatever monsters that rampaged above, he was certain the beasts were capable of handling any kind of weapon thrown at them for that matter. That could explain why both his mother and father hadn't made it back yet, and why his mother had bid him that sudden farewell._

_Gulping audibly, Nagato put a foot on the ladder, clammy hands reaching up to grab the sides as he made to climb his way back up into the house. He had no idea why his body was reacting that way, as if it was being pulled up by some sort of a magnetic force left behind in the wake of his mother's departure. Her words were ringing clearly inside his head, begging him to take the escape route and run for his life, but his hands and feet were refusing to coordinate with that desperate command, working involuntarily to move towards those two people who'd been his everything for the past seven years of his life._

_Imagining a life without them beyond the rugged walls of the cave was like living without taking a single breath._

_The sounds seemed to have subsided by now, followed only by the footsteps that never seemed to die. They moved about constantly, scuffling around their furniture in search for something that Nagato couldn't figure out from his current position. He could hear one of them muttering something incessantly, possibly talking to his partners as they ravaged the house._

"_Shit. I thought they were enemy nins." he heard one of them say, and Nagato had a feeling he was in for a devastating reveal._

_And sure enough, as he popped his head out of the little trap door, dragging his body out of the hole to set his feet onto the tiled floor, all Nagato could see around him was blood and destruction._

"_Mamma? Papa?" he tried to say, but no voice came out, forcing him to do the searching himself. He knew danger was around, he could sense them next door, but there was no way he could turn around and run away towards a world where he didn't have his parents by his side. With unsteady steps that made him falter at every point, he rounded a corner up ahead and came in full view of the living room which looked bloodier than the one he'd just walked through. _

_But it was the sight to his left that had him reeling with terror._

_On an unsightly pile next to their now destroyed dining table, his mother and father lay motionless in a pool of their own blood, their hands limp and lying haphazardly across the floor. While he couldn't have a clear look at his father's face that was buried underneath his wife's arms, Nagato could clearly make out the expression on his mother's face. Through the blood that oozed out of her mouth, caking her cheeks and the side of her head, he could see the terror in the blank eyes that stared up at him unblinkingly. _

_Something burned inside his heart in that instance._

"_Mamma! Papa!" he screamed, throwing himself onto the floor as the shock of seeing them in such a state overwhelmed his muscles and emotions. No tears came out of his eyes, probably having been lost somewhere in the light of the numbness that settled inside his body._

"_No!"_

_There was a great deal of shuffling around him all of a sudden, but Nagato paid no heed. To him, the only reality of the moment was the one that lay before his eyes, dyed in bright red colours. _

"_Dammit. There's a kid as well!" someone was shouting behind him, a voice that was gruff and hoarse._

"_Shit! I'd no idea they were civilians."_

"_What do you think we should do with the kid?"_

"_Don't ask me! I've no friggin' idea!"_

_A hand reached out for his shaking shoulders and Nagato was forced to look at the enemies who'd left his parents in such a condition._

"_Hey kid," said the man with the hoarse voice. The hitai-ate tied on his forehead carried a symbol that Nagato had come to detest over the past two months. "Are you okay? We're sorry about this. We didn't know-" the words were caught dead in his throat when the man noticed just what exactly he was staring into for the sole purpose of a hasty consolation._

"_What the-" he mumbled, horror-struck as he backed out to shield himself from what he guessed was coming at him._

_But it was too late._

_With a cry that pierced the dark skies above, Nagato felt something burn in his eyes – like an invisible fire that charged up his insides and manifested itself in the form of the very hatred that consumed him, ate at him from within after having seen those blank eyes of his mother. _

_A woman who'd been with him just a few minutes ago, the warmth from her kiss still lingering on his forehead._

_Before he could get a hold of himself or even guess what was happening to his body, Nagato saw darkness descend around him, falling over him like a thick curtain that left out even the tiny specks of light for his eyes to see. His head swirled and his vision faded, but he could still hear the heavy thuds of two Konoha shinobis falling onto the ground, their bodies limp and rigid._

_He didn't know how, but his heart seemed to have suddenly crumpled in on itself because the pain was physically there – a sharp twinge that made him grab his chest and buckle over with the sudden loss of air inside his lungs._

_Is this what pain feels like? He thought to himself, his face hitting the ground with a dull thud._

_Not the kind of pain that you feel when you cut your fingers or bruise your legs._

_But the kind that stays with you and stings when something irreplaceable breaks inside your heart – a part that dies with you, never to be repaired again._

_And as much as he tried to understand the mechanisms behind the sharp pang that was burning his insides at the moment, he couldn't help but agree to one simple fact._

_That this was, without a doubt, his first great source of pain._

_A pain that is beyond the physical connotations that it is usually ascribed to._

_A pain that he was sure he wouldn't be able to get the better of, even if he were to spend an eternity on the effort._

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

_12 years later_| _Konohagakure no Sato_|

The training ground to the east of Hokage tower was a perfect destination for spotting the future shinobis and kunoichis of Konoha in play.

Somewhat of a spare field that acted as a supplement to the real deal within the academy grounds, this particular park was a place where aspiring shinobis and kunoichis, who were yet to set foot into the academy, practiced their art. Ranging from toddlers to children who had just acquired proper speech, this ground played host to the dozens of kids who would one day don the flak jacket to protect the borders of Konoha.

And amidst this motley group of youngsters practicing their moves, or just scuttling about aimlessly with friends in tow, sat a tiny boy with hair the colour of the peak of snow-capped mountains. With a bored look on his face, and eyes that observed, in his opinion, crazy kids who goofed around without any substantial purpose in life, the young boy sat atop an old log with a straight back and a frown upon his lips.

"I hope dad would make it quick," he muttered to himself, thoroughly irritated at having been left waiting at a place that he couldn't stand for the life of him. Of course training grounds were important for a person aspiring to become a great shinobi someday, but that didn't mean he was supposed to attach any kind of importance to the _people _crowding those grounds as well. From what his four year old self could discern, even the handful of kids with potential didn't seem to understand the basics of ninjutsu.

For such were the woes of a gifted child born to a genius shinobi. You simply have an eye, sharp and critical enough to strip down everything you deem unfit and not up to the mark. What was his fault for being able to spot even a minor error in the way certain hand seals were performed?

"Alright kiddo, let's get going," a familiar voice sounded from somewhere behind him, and the boy with silver hair turned around to look at his father who'd finally come back from whatever work that had kept him busy for the better part of the day.

"You're late, dad," the boy mumbled, displeased. He wasn't the kind to feel great about being kept hanging for too long. Who had that kind of patience, anyway?

Hatake Sakumo, genius shinobi and the White Fang of Konoha, rubbed the back of his head of silver hair with a sheepish grin on his face. It would have been comical for any passer-by to see what a sorry image this genius of a ninja created in front of his unhappy four year old. "Sorry about that," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Had a briefing to do with my team. Missions these days are pretty complicated, you see."

The young boy rolled his eyes and crossed his tiny arms across his chest.

"Did you talk to the Sandaime?" he asked instead, thinking it wise not to dwell upon the reasons for his lateness at such a crucial time. "What did he say?"

Something seemed to twinkle at the back of Sakumo's dark eyes. "Ah yes," he whispered, a triumphant smile tugging at his lips.

"What do you think?"

"Dad, please don't play around with me. This is important."

Sakumo flinched at his son's words, not only because they were uttered in a sharp tone, but also because they didn't seem fit coming from the mouth of a four year old. But then again, for a boy who was barely past three feet, Hatake Kakashi's overall speech pattern was something that didn't go well with his girth and current levels of intellectual facilities.

Sometimes, Hatake Sakumo wondered if it was really worth being an elite shinobi who spent more than half of his time on the front-lines, away from a motherless child, left to practically fend for himself. While he made sure to put the kid under a nanny's care every time that duty called, Sakumo accepted the fact that hiring help could never be a substitute for parental care.

"He could have never declined the request. You've been accepted into the academy Kakashi!" the man said instead, gripping his son's shoulder with one hand and patting him on the back with the other.

"The youngest to join in the history of this village!"

Four year old Hatake Kakashi allowed himself a small smile at that.

"When can I start?" he asked, the first question that he deemed important on such an occasion. No celebrations. No boasts. Only business. Clean and simple.

"The academy opens the day after, but you've to attend an orientation tomorrow. You'll get to meet all your classmates for this semester," Sakumo responded, his big hand still rubbing the small of his son's back.

Kakashi made a sound that seemed like a grunt of disapproval through the mask that covered his face. Sakumo sighed, but found it wise to ignore it at this point.

"The Sandaime wishes to meet you and talk to you personally. It's not nice to keep him waiting," he said at length, tugging at Kakashi's sleeves before he nodded tacitly and made to set off with his father.

Through the crowd of screaming kids, they made a beeline for the massive structure that stood towards the end of the training ground. At several points in their little journey across the grassless field, Sakumo was greeted cheerfully by the civilians and shinobi parents alike, all of whom looked up at him with reverence in their eyes. He was the hero of Konoha after all, his name, a legend that rang across the five great nations and sometimes, beyond their borders as well. Not only was he a big asset to have on the Fire country's side, he was also a menace to those who so much as looked in Konoha's direction with evil intentions in mind.

"Morning Captain!" a young man clad in a standard flak jacket crossed the father and son's path and stopped by to greet the elder of the two. "Reporting in, are you?"

Sakumo smiled fondly at the young man. "I'm afraid not, Hibiki. I reported in this morning."

The young man named Hibiki nodded in understanding. "Of course, of course. As expected of our captain. Always efficient and proper." He turned to look at the little boy next and a knowing smile stretched across his lips.

"Ah! This is about little Kakashi's admission into the academy, isn't it?" he reached out and fondled the boy's chin with his fingers. Kakashi jerked away in repulsion and practically strip the man down with a gaze that should have been capable of shooting poison.

"I'm not _little_," he ground out, crossing his arms in his standard pose. Hibiki stared awkwardly between the captain and his son. "Ah…o-okay. Sorry," he mumbled, but Sakumo stepped in to salvage the situation. "We'll see you around Hibiki," he said to the newcomer, displaying his best smile possible. "It's the hokage's call. Can't afford to be late."

Hibiki almost thanked him for the tactful change of topic. "Of course sir!" he mumbled in haste, preparing to trace his steps back out of the training field. "I'll see you around," with a quick bow, he was out of their way within seconds.

"Really Kakashi?" Sakumo sighed once his subordinate was out of their earshot. "You shouldn't talk like that to your elders."

Kakashi shrugged his shoulders, his chin still itching from where the man had grabbed him. "I don't like it when people do that. I'm all grown up now."

Sakumo chuckled inwardly. He thought his son looked incredibly adorable while making that statement. Especially when he was a little more than three feet tall and all but four years of age.

"Okay, sir!" he said with mirth in his eyes, as he noticed Kakashi rolling his eyes yet again. He figured his son had two prominent ways of showing emotions – by rolling his eyes or crossing his arms across his chest. While this very fact caused him to feel guiltier about their current living arrangements – what with him going out on month-long missions, leaving Kakashi to fend for himself despite his fragile age – he reckoned this behaviour of his son's was something that he'd eventually grow out of.

And it was precisely for this reason that he'd finally agreed to sign an application for his admission into the academy. While initially averse to the idea of sending his child away for shinobi training at such a young age (for enrolment into the academy would also mean subsequent graduation and the inevitable consent to go on dangerous missions at a young age), Sakumo had finally conceded on two grounds. Being the prodigy that he was, Kakashi had to learn how to control his powers and channelize his genius in the right direction, in the most productive of ways. For this purpose, his academy teachers and jounin sensei would be the best way to achieve the goal.

But, apart from the academy playing an overall instructive part in building his son's character, he believed it was his classmates that would ultimately smoothen up the ragged surfaces in his current persona, and make him a humbler shinobi, respected by all.

For no matter your level of skills and talents, or your chakra reservoir and knowledge of ninjutsu, taijutsu or genjutsu, humility was all that mattered at the end of the day. On the battlefield, where two shinobis of equal calibre clash against each other, the one who accepts his weaknesses and works around them is the one who takes the trophy home.

"We're here," Kakashi announced in his bored voice, laced with only the littlest amount of enthusiasm at having been accepted into the academy. Sakumo pitched his feet back into the ground.

"Yes. Let's make haste."

The Hokage's office was a pleasant place to be in at times when emergency situations were not being discussed. If you were to casually stroll into the place to simply have a look around, you'll find it quite an inviting place to be in, with its spacious interiors, minimalistic furniture and a wall-length window that opened up into a balcony overlooking the entirety of Konoha. At night, the lights from the village up ahead would dazzle and reflect off of the glass panels that formed these windows, creating a kind of scintillating effect that was enough to light up the room without having to burn a lamp indoors.

"Good evening hokage-sama," Sakumo greeted the moment he knocked at and opened the door to step into the said room. Kakashi followed closely behind, a confused amalgamation of nervousness and confidence in his steps.

"Ah Sakumo! Please come in!" Sandaime, Sarutobi Hiruzen, replied merrily, his eyes crinkling even further as he let his lips pull up into a brilliant smile. The smoking pipe was taken out of his mouth for the purpose of better articulation.

Sakumo turned to look at his son this time, but he didn't need to, for the little boy had gotten the signal without him having to give any instructions.

"Good evening hokage-sama. It's an honour to meet you," he said in a smooth voice, bowing deeply with a hand placed on his chest.

Sandaime looked almost shaken at having heard a kid of four say something as formal as that.

"My my, if it isn't little Hatake Kakashi?" he said good-humouredly, smiling fondly at the boy. Beside Sakumo, Kakashi stiffened somewhat, but he obviously had the sense to not lash back at the hokage himself.

"Congratulations my boy!" the sandaime continued, a note of pride in his tone. "I've heard you've broken all records? We usually don't accept students before six years of age into the academy. It's against protocol. But we didn't seem to have any choice in your case. Your genius is something that cannot be contained within the four walls of the Hatake compound," he turned to look at Sakumo and something silent passed between the two.

"So, young man. Are you ready for the academic year up ahead?"

Kakashi wasted no time in answering that question. "Yes sir!" he said, his back all straight and his arms behind his back. "I'm eagerly looking forward to school."

Sandaime chuckled and looked at the young boy as if he were a rare sight to behold. "Good," he said, getting up from his swivel chair and walking around the gigantic work desk to stand right in front of him. While not even half of Sakumo's impressive height, the very charisma that he exuded as the hokage was enough to humble a man twice his size.

"Students like yourself are hard to come by these days, my boy," sandaime began, his wrinkled hands placed gently atop Kakashi's shoulders. He looked him straight in the eyes. "However, there's one thing I'd like you to take note of."

He paused for a brief moment, his lithe frame still bent over to compensate for the height difference between himself and the boy.

"The Will of Fire is what we all have been worshipping since the founding of this village. While not a concrete entity that can be explained in a sentence or two to a young boy such as yourself, I'll have you know that this is the code we live by as proud shinobi of the village hidden in the leaves. Use your genius the way a kind man with a heart of gold would. Use your genius like your father did and continues to do. You've already made us proud with your impressive skills and talents. Make us prouder by showing us that you are capable of inheriting the will that you would learn of as you grow and develop."

Kakashi nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes sir!" he said, refusing to look anywhere but the hokage's sharp and learned eyes. "I shall devote my life to this village and its citizens!"

"That's like my boy!" sandaime exclaimed, patting Kakashi on the back. "However, I'd also like you to remember one crucial thing."

He leaned in a little closer and enunciated every word as clearly as he could.

"Your life is as valuable as the lives of the citizens of Konoha, or any other country for that matter," he said. "While it is your duty as a shinobi to protect the citizens at the cost of your life, you're also a son and a friend who has responsibilities to fulfil back home. Never forget who you really are on the battlefield, my child. You're Hatake Kakashi, and you must always remember that," he placed a finger on the boy's chest. "It's this identity that stays in your heart, and it's this realisation that serves as the most powerful of drives in life. It's something that makes you excel and better at whatever you choose to do on the long road ahead. While you may not understand everything of what I'm trying to explain at the moment, I'm sure a person of your calibre will certainly learn the true meaning behind my words in the years to come. Till then, do your duties honestly and never give up on hard work."

He got back to a standing position and took a step back.

Sakumo nodded gently and looked admiringly at the elderly man. The sandaime was his absolute favourite for a reason.

Kakashi frowned a little with that heavy load of information and words, but he made sure to record each and every letter of it into the sharp corners of his brain. This was the hokage, after all. Every word that he said carried tremendous weight. Besides, that little part about his father had been absolutely correct. He did want to become like the White Fang someday. The entire concept of wearing a mask on the lower half of his face had been to distinguish himself from his genius father and carve out a name for himself in the world of shinobis.

He bowed once again and looked at the sandaime as he proceeded to sit back on his chair. His heart was beating a little faster than usual, probably owing to the one-on-one with the leader of the village himself.

Hatake Kakashi would take his words to heart, not only because he was the leader – the man who commanded the hundred something shinobis and kunoichis in Konoha – but also because he was a terrific man to look up to. Despite his tough pretences and a rigid outer appearance, Kakashi was no stranger to the concept of the Will of Fire. His father had talked about it, the elders had gone on for hours on the subject. And while he was still not old enough to understand the technicalities behind the concept, he'd enough sense and the heart to understand that the delicate balance this notion represented was a thing to cherish and pass on.

Maybe he would understand it one day, maybe he wouldn't. But as long as he kept his priorities and his identity in the right place, Hatake Kakashi reckoned he would be able to live up to the kind of name that his world-renowned father upheld.

* * *

To be continued

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**(A/N): Next up, we meet Obito and Rin!**

**I'll also be focusing on the Ame orphans in this story, not only because I adore them personally, but also because they play a major role in the story.**

**Don't forget to review! I need to know your opinions because it'll help me figure out if I should continue with the story or not. This is my first Naruto fanfic. A little support and feedback would be deeply appreciated :)**


	2. A House of Demons, an Angel in Disguise

**(A/N): This chapter came about after a series of rejected drafts because I just couldn't come up with a proper way to introduce the three main characters mentioned here. Hopefully, the final product is good enough. Also, this chapter was meant to be a little longer, covering certain incidents that occurred during the Second Ninja World War, but I decided against it coz it would have been a 20k+ load of incoherence otherwise.**

**Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.**

* * *

**-Chapter Two-**

**A House of Demons and an Angel in Disguise**

* * *

The Uchiha Compound that carpeted the entirety of Konohagakure's southern fringe was a sight to behold.

With a massive area covering about several hundred acres of land right up to the mountains far south, these grounds had been specifically reserved for the purpose of housing one of Konoha's founding clans with a _kekkei genkai_ known across the five great nations.

A colossal gateway with the trademark fan symbol adorned the entrance, giving a fairly good impression of the compound that stretched beyond the gigantic walls of the enclosure. A river coursing through the territory within divided the area into four cardinal sections, each section sporting a number of rooms and apartments that belonged to the several Uchiha families living within the confines of the rampart like walls. While the underlying hierarchy was pretty evident at first blush, the complex organisational and social structure of the clan was something that couldn't be easily discerned, despite the well-structured sequences in which the houses had been designed and arranged – from one bedroom studios for the lesser known clan members around the periphery, to the elite inner circle of row houses with personal backyards and verandas.

To an outsider not acquainted with the history of this village, it would have seemed as though Konohagakure had gone through a bitter partition and had been subsequently divided into two concrete sections – Konoha proper and the historical Uchiha compound.

And yet, it was bewildering how this very assumption had covertly strived to, and _would_ overtly strive to exist in the realm of reality sometime in the future.

Contrary to this grim message that the strictly cordoned off section often gave, however, were certain exceptional elements running about within this measured space like they were determined to change this morbid sort of picture that the elite clan always managed to present.

And one such example was currently making his way through the narrow streets dotting the landscape of Konoha proper, hands full of shopping bags that were threatening to burst on account of having been stuffed to the brim.

"MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY! IMPORTANT STUFF COMING THROUGH!" yelled a six year old Uchiha by the name of Obito, his tiny, yet strong legs carrying him swiftly through the milling crowd, a pair of bright orange goggles shielding his dark eyes as if it were an indispensable gear used for the purpose of performing such stunts. Juggling two life-sized bags in his nimble hands, and trying not to ram into the myriad shoppers assembled for the purpose of their weekend grocery shopping, Uchiha Obito willed his body to push itself forward as hard and as fast as it could.

"Just a few more steps," he panted to himself, as he craned his neck to get a better view of the dilapidated building with peeling plaster down the street. A tiny, lopsided sign draped over its first floor balcony read, 'Little Hearts Old Age Home.'

"Watch where you're going, brat!" a shopkeeper selling a variety of exotic fish hollered, as the speeding boy almost demolished his stall with a near stumble to the left.

"Sorry about that!" Obito practically bellowed back, not having the time to stop and apologise personally for the inconvenience caused. Besides, there wasn't much that he could do in this regard. He was known for causing such troubles wherever he went.

Almost ramming into stalls? Uchiha Obito begged to differ. He had done much, much worse, and the slight dent in his left buttock was testament to the result of him shattering a landlord's ornamental windows while attempting to practice some rookie ninjutsu in the town square.

With this experience in heart, and the painful lurch in his butt cheeks every time he thought about that fearsome spank, Obito made sure to keep his balance right and the shopping bags in place, as he finally rounded the slight bend in the street and almost galloped up the staircase leading into the familiar building.

"I've brought some stuff!" he exclaimed the moment he landed into a cosy looking reception area with faded couches and moth-eaten tables. An attendant turned around to acknowledge his presence from the far end of the hall, and pointed in the direction of a corridor that led to the common room.

"Nope! Don't have the time for that! I've to go to Shio-baachan's place!" Obito panted, setting down the bags and rummaging through them to take out all the stuff ordered from the place he was currently at.

"This one belongs to Yajima-jii," he began, extracting a bottle of fruit jam and a pack of bread, and placing it on a low-lying table next to the reception desk. "And give this one to Koujiro-ojii. He's a little impatient, so give his stuff first thing. Ah, and this one?" he raised a humungous jar of pickle. "This one's for Shiyori-baachan. That old lady in the next room might try to dig into this, but this is only meant for Shiyori-baachan."

The attendant chuckled lightly into her hands as she observed the little boy placing a wide assortment of items on the table. How the six year old had managed to carry all that stuff in two bags was beyond her.

"Alright, Obito-kun," she said, walking over to observe the items spread across the table. "I'll make it a point to deliver them safely. Thank you for your help!"

"No problem!" Obito exclaimed, right hand held up in a thumbs-up, accompanied by a toothy smile that spread from ear to ear. People who knew him were well acquainted to this pose as a standard procedure whenever the young Uchiha tried to prove a point, or punctuate his sentences with just a tad bit more enthusiasm. "When I become Hokage, this place will look like a palace." He added, turning around to look at the peeling plaster and the yellowing walls with a frown upon his lips. It was bewildering how the boy could manage to change his expressions within the tiniest fraction of a second.

The attendant raised her brows in amusement, but nodded nonetheless. "Of course, of course," she said, lips still pulled up into a grin that conveyed her curiosity. "I'll be sure to remind you of that promise the day you become the leader of this village."

Obito nodded solemnly and pulled back the glasses that he had lifted from his eyes upon entering the building. "See you later, uketsuke-san*," he said, turning dramatically on his heels and belting out of the building in a blur of orange and blue, leading the lady at the reception to sigh deeply.

"This boy never ceases to amuse me," she whispered to herself, setting out to pile up the items in her hands and trying to recall what belonged to whom.

_But, no matter how dubious it seems, _she added as an afterthought, shaking her head slightly at the incredulity of her own claim. _I do think the boy might actually end up becoming the hokage._

There was not an ounce of doubt about Uchiha Obito being the notorious troublemaker in all of Konoha. Probably the most _enthusiastic _in his batch, the young Uchiha had an uncanny tendency to do things the flashy way. Whether it be making grandiose claims about becoming the yondaime, or a simple task like doing voluntary service every weekend, Uchiha Obito would not be Uchiha Obito if he didn't go about his business without being part of a minor accident or two in between. Thundering down the streets in a stark resemblance to a mini tornado, he went about his business as if he had a class to attend; whizzing past with a look of urgency on his face, but making it a point to stop by every elderly person that he came across on the way, and tending to their needs like they were his own grandparents to begin with.

Only people who knew the boy well – and there were only a handful of that kind – could take a solid guess at why he would go through this community service ritual for the elderly every weekend, despite never being under the obligation to do the same.

For the boy had been, since two years of age, an orphan.

Born to an Uchiha pair celebrated as heroes of the village, little Obito had only a photograph by which to remember his parents. Apart from a few belongings and a will left to his benefit in the legal chambers, Obito had nothing much to treasure his parents' memories by. He had been a baby when the they were killed on two separate missions, and since that tender age, he'd learned to live with the hollow reality that surrounds children without parents. Konoha being a community of shinobis and civilians alike, brought him up as a child of the state, looking after his needs to the extent permitted by its laws. Despite having a sprawling family line from his father's side, replete with a hundred something living relatives belonging to the same sub-Uchiha gene pool, familial grudges of a bizarre kind had been responsible for keeping the little boy away from his own home, forcing him to be brought up the traditional Konoha way. Beyond those limits, and outside the purview of formalities that surrounded such legal provisions, Uchiha Obito had been devoid of the warmth that comes with growing up with parents. For no matter the steady flow of ration and basic amenities at the community centre where he had been brought up, and no matter the constant presence of a caretaker around in times of distress, no constitutional provision for support in the world was a substitute to a life that he would have lived, had his parents returned alive from their respective missions.

Keeping this background in mind, the lady by the reception counter couldn't help but feel terribly sorry for the boy who visited her old age home every weekend without fail, busying himself with mundane chores to help people he owed nothing to. Of course he was a little – or perhaps, more than a little – airheaded, with his unnerving tendencies to knock into things or simply fool around when he'd nothing better to do, but even the ones who thought him to be a klutz couldn't help but agree that the boy's heart was in the right place.

Sighing, as she managed to collect all of the delivered items into her hands, the lady set out to deliver the stuff to the people who'd so far been the only persons Uchiha Obito had ever opened his heart to.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Time was of the essence, and the bags were still heavy with grocery.

Zooming down the streets in a speed that could have put a jonin to shame, Uchiha Obito counted the seconds in his head as he attempted to make it to his destination in time to break all self-set records.

Another street to cover and a few turns to take, and he would make it to his favourite person's place in good time. As simple as it sounded.

Unfortunately for the six year old, accidents were not what you'd call, a rare occurrence in his life.

His foot finding a treacherous stone jutting out of the pavement a few metres ahead, Uchiha Obito went sprawling across the gravelled path with all the grace of a sack of potatoes, the plastic bags flying in the air before landing with a mighty crash and spraying all of their contents before his very eyes.

"Oh damn!" Obito hissed, clutching his right knee in pain as he noticed blood smearing his hands from where he'd grabbed the aching joint. "This _had_ to happen!"

He hissed and cussed some more, attempting to gather the scattered objects and putting them back into the bags that were lying haphazardly across the street. The citizens around looked at the boy with pity and rolled their eyes; this tended to happen on a regular basis.

"Just a few more," Obito grumbled, trying to reach for some packets of bread that had landed a good distance away from him, his free hand stretching to the fullest in an attempt to grab the scattered items. However, the injury in his leg was proving to be a bit more problematic than what had looked like to him at first glance.

"I think you need some help with this," a sweet, familiar voice grabbed his attention as he tried salvaging a can of bean paste that had squished beyond repair. "Here. I'll lend you a hand."

From his vantage point, all Obito could see was a head of pretty raven hair as the newcomer went about collecting all of the items, piling them up in her hands and proceeding to stash them all neatly into the shopping bags.

"Uhm…thanks?" Obito moaned, still clutching his knees as he attempted to get back up on his feet. Something lurched unpleasantly around his injured joints, forcing him to take his position back on the ground. "Ow Ow Ow!"

"Are you okay?" the newcomer asked as she suddenly hovered over his crouched form, her hair bouncing about her face when she bend over to examine his knee. A dainty hand with slim fingers grabbed hold of the torn clothing around the spot, delicately patting the surface around the angry wound.

"This doesn't look serious, but it needs to be treated before it gets any worse. Come, I'll help you patch up."

"Uh," Obito began, suddenly reminded of the task that he'd set for himself. "I've to give this stuff to Shio-baa-"

"We can do that later. You need first-aid right now."

She shifted on the soles of her feet, her voice coming out as gentle and authoritative at the same time. Giving the injured spot one final look, she raised her head to meet his eyes, and Obito recoiled as the familiar face of his youngest aunt looked at him with concern. A face he hadn't seen in ages.

"Mikoto-bachan?" he spluttered, as recognition hit him full force after a minute's lapse. Obito wasn't used to meeting such familiar faces down on the streets very often.

"Give me your hand, Obito-kun," Uchiha Mikoto offered, her hand held out and a warm smile on her lips. There was something very comforting about the way her lips has been pulled up, and Obito couldn't help but succumb to her wishes despite never having been in a position with her that entailed harbouring such kind of trust.

Shrugging his shoulders, and giving out his hand in reluctance, he let the young lady help him up, draping her right arm around his waist to scoop him up like he was an errant, three year old kid asking for a ride back home. With the other, she grabbed hold of the plastic blags and yanked them up in a fluid motion without so much as a flinch on her lips.

Obito was pretty sure his face had begun to acquire a striking resemblance to a cherry tomato.

"I can walk-" he began, but was cut off when Mikoto shook her head and proceeded down the alley, pretending she hadn't heard his words of protest.

"Good thing we aren't all that far away from home. I can treat you-"

"_Home?" _Obito gulped, suddenly not all that enthusiastic about following his aunt all the way back to the compound. If by home she meant that terrible, _terrible_ place he had visited a couple of months ago, only to be kicked out on his shins like he'd committed a grave mistake while setting a toe inside, Obito was not too sure about his decision to relent. He'd rather go hang out in the Forest of Death than set foot in that wretched place again.

Mikoto seemed to have sensed the anxiety underlying his tone, for she shook her head slightly and tried giving what she thought was a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry about that," she said in a voice that came out as a mere whisper, guilt lacing her words. "They are all out on missions. Most of them, at least. I can take you in through the back door."

Obito bit his lips and turned to look at the gravelled path passing by underneath. The pain in his knees seemed to have intensified by the minute.

"I-" he began, unsure of what to say in such a situation. He had no intentions of going back to a place that seemed nothing short of a scene out his nightmares, but there was no way he could decline a request made so kindly. Somewhere deep down, the desire to be close to a blood relative was what overwhelmed him at certain occasions, making him feel like he was just that much more closer to the parents that he'd never had the pleasure of knowing.

"Trust me, Obito-kun," Mikoto said then, the grip on his shoulders tightening a little, as if in a desperate plea to channelize trustworthiness through the gesture. "Let me help you." She paused, contemplating her next words, before finishing in a whisper – "You are family, aren't you?"

Obito refused to look up and face his aunt at that.

There was a reason he had always been particularly averse to looking at the lady since the day he had gathered worldly consciousness. While he may not have had the fortune of remembering his father's face from his faded memories, whatever he had gathered from the solitary framed picture atop his headboard was enough to point towards the striking similarities between him and his youngest sister. Taking a sharp breath, and trying not to think too much about the horrors of the place he was heading towards, Obito tried focusing instead on the little introductory speech he was required to prepare for the academy orientation the next day. After all, it was not often that you got selected into the prestigious academy to be trained in the arts of a Shinobi. Especially not when you'd finally been let in after a series of failed attempts.

Sadly, Obito did not seem to be in the right frame of mind to think about anything related to his educational endeavours. Even the prospect of impending homework didn't seem as terrifying as setting foot in a place he had once decided to never look twice at.

The house they were headed towards was nothing short of a colossal mansion covering vast grounds within the Uchiha compound. Placed immediately within a few yards of the main entrance, it presented itself as a landmark to travellers and inhabitants alike, spreading imposingly across a vast stretch of land in the south-west quarters – practically occupying the entire quarter, for that matter, right from the periphery to the inner sanctum that was the core. Consisting of several rooms and sub-sections that criss-crossed within its complex structure, the house represented the abode of a powerful family within the broader Uchiha network, said to be the direct, pure blooded descendants of their great ancestor – the legendary elder son of Hagoromo Otsutsuki, the Sage of the Six Paths. Even within this division, was another division that marked a clear line of distinction between the branch houses and the main house, providing residence to the more important members towards the innermost segments of the mansion. It was to this segment that both Mikoto and Obito belonged.

Only, the latter had been divested of his rights the day his father had decided to do the unthinkable by marrying outside the clan.

When they were hardly a few yards away from the main gates, Mikoto began to frantically search her surroundings for a clearance and skipped along a narrow path that ran next to the house's perimeter. This side of the mansion could be likened to a dingy alley, contrary to what the building's insides looked like, and several cats could be seen prancing about in the open or over the walls, reinforcing its image as a typical alley up a typical street.

Obito made a sound of disapproval somewhere deep inside his throat.

"It's okay," Mikoto assured yet again, sensing his discomfort. She was still carrying him in a one-arm hold, the other hand taking care of the almost torn shopping bags. A second alley cut the main one a few metres ahead and she turned right to come across an almost invisible entrance that outsiders could have missed, unless they stopped by to give a better look.

Once inside, Obito couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. He'd been here before, and it had been anything but a pleasant experience. The very walls - which were painted in the standard cream colour of the family – seemed to carry a grim message for him, and he found his usual sunny disposition being clouded over by the prospect of being inside a place he was sure was full of monsters. His knowledge of the fact that they were Uchihas like himself, and his own relatives from his father's side, wasn't enough to make him feel any less apprehensive about being around people who seemed to have an eternal grudge against his very existence.

"We're here," came Mikoto's reassuring whisper, as she rounded a bend in the deserted corridor and slid open a modest looking door. Once inside, she set the bags in one corner, dropped Obito onto a low lying stool next to the _Kotatsu**_, and went over to slide shut the _shoji***_.

Obito's eyes immediately fell upon a picture that seemed to have had a magnetic pull on him. Lying atop the _tokonoma**** _along with several other frames, this particular photo pulled him in with the force of a million genjutsus.

"Is that _tou-san_?" he whispered, eyes widening slightly, as he took in the sight of his rather _different _looking father. From the frame in his dorm, Obito had deduced that his father was a tough-looking man with faint lines across his forehead and a thin beard lining his chin. This man, however, looked every bit as young as he could ever look, the smile on his lips making him appear a little less intimidating. Next to him stood five more kids, all younger than him, one of whom Obito suspected to be Aunt Mikoto herself.

Mikoto turned around to look at the picture Obito was pointing at and smiled.

"Yes. That's your father. And his brothers and sisters. I guess you'd want to have a closer look?" She grabbed hold of the frame and handed it over to a wide-eyed Obito.

"This was around eighteen years ago. I was roughly three years old."

"Where's kaa-san? Where am I?" a thoroughly enchanted Obito asked.

Mikoto let out a giggle. "This is _before _your parents' met, Obito-kun. You weren't…around then."

Obito let out a small 'oh' as if he had perfectly understood the explanation. It felt a little weird looking at a different picture that didn't have his mother and a tiny him in it as well. He was just a little too used to the photograph he'd treasured for as long as he could remember.

"Is it painful?" Aunt Mikoto's voice shook him out of his reverie and he realised she was crouched over his knee again, this time with a tube of ointment in her hands.

"Yes. A bit," Obito said truthfully, his mind suddenly focused on how his foot made him feel like there were needles coursing within.

"This will sting, but it'll help heal the wound quickly," Mikoto warned, before extracting a glob of ointment onto her index finger and gingerly applying it across the wound. Obito hissed in pain.

"Sorry," Mikoto said, flinching herself, before continuing with her ministrations. She pointed at the photo frame, as if asking Obito to concentrate on it in order to distract himself from the pain. It took her not more than a few seconds to rub the gel like substance over the tear and she was already wrapping a bandage around his knee.

"Ask your matron to show you to a doctor this evening," she instructed, tying the bandage in place and tugging it from all sides to check its tightness. "You might need to get a shot-"

_"Shot?"_ Obito muttered, suddenly feeling the need to flee from the spot. If there was one thing Uchiha Obito was most afraid of – out of an extensive lists of things to be terrified of – it was the prospect of getting a needle jammed into his butt. The last time he'd been dragged to the doc for this purpose, Obito hadn't been able to sit straight for over weeks.

"Yes. Shot," Mikoto confirmed, unmoved by the poor child's passionate disapproval of all things pointy. "It's about your health after all, Obito-kun. If you don't get that needle for infections, you'll have to lie in bed for the rest of your life because your body will then be invaded by these pesky little germs that-"

"Germs?" Obito interrupted, gulping quite audibly.

"Yes, dirty little germs that will give you a tummy bug, and from what I know about you, you don't seem to like the idea of rushing over to the bathroom every two seconds, isn't that so?"

Obito nodded, remembering the last time he had the loosies with a very pained expression on his face.

"So yes, shots are a must." Mikoto concluded triumphantly, extracting a small box of candies out of nowhere and thrusting it into the little boy's hands.

"And this is for being a good boy."

A twinkle seemed to have appeared in Obito's eyes, replacing the terror they had been exhibiting just a few seconds ago. He grabbed the box in earnest, a wide grin playing on his lips.

"Thank you!" he said with much enthusiasm, thinking of his aunt as the best person in the universe right now. The very thought that he had decided against coming back to this place seemed rather stupid to him in retrospect.

"I heard you got through the academy. Congratulations Obito-kun!" Mikoto said then, sounding genuinely ecstatic. "Your kaa-san and tou-san will definitely be proud of you!"

Obito beamed upon being congratulated, but felt his grin turning into a frown upon the mention of his parents.

"But they are dead. How can they be proud?"

Mikoto shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "They may not be with us today," she began, placing a comforting hand on Obito's shoulders, "but I'm pretty sure they can see you from the faraway place that they have gone to. You are their son, after all. I'm positive they can figure out when you're happy or feeling low. That's why I say, Obito-kun. Keep smiling the way you always do. It certainly makes your parents happy."

Obito's eyes widened at the prospect. "I never thought about that," he said, suddenly feeling a little guilty. He recalled all the bad things that he had done so far (one of them being mixing a lot of chilly in Big T's (the resident bully) soup over at the centre and figured his parents might have been hurt by his actions. He sent a quick apology to them in his mind and promised to be a well-behaved person from this point on.

"I know a couple of students who have been admitted into the academy as well," Mikoto continued, and Obito's ears perked up at this little declaration. "I'm pretty sure they are going to be good classmates to you. Best of luck for the academy year up ahead! If you need any kind of help, you can always talk to your aunt!"

"You know ninjustsu?" Obito asked without missing a beat, thoroughly engrossed into the conversation by this point. Matters like these tended to hold his attention a little longer than usual.

"Of course I do," Mikoto said, grinning. "I'm a kunoichi, you know? I'm going to give the jonin exam very soon."

Obito couldn't help but exclaim in amazement. "Jonin?" he said, eyes as wide as saucers. He'd hardly been around elite ninjas in his life. All he knew was that these were the people Konoha looked upon as heroes, their skills unmatchable and unreachable in the five countries across the land. Being a jonin had a very respectable and mysterious air around it.

"Yes. So, if you need any kind of help with your shuriken training, or any other ninjutsu training for that matter, I'll readily help out," Mikoto promised, much to Obito's utter delight. While the clan he belonged to was an elite clan as a whole and in itself, there was no harm in boasting about a close relation to a specific elite in his arsenal. It made him feel like he was already a few steps ahead of his peers and several steps further towards his ultimate goal.

"That's so cool," he declared, further cementing the feeling that he was currently talking to the world's best person. It was a shame, he thought, that he hardly got the opportunity to have a nice little chat with his youngest aunt. He certainly felt like he had been missing out on a lot. Then there was also the fact that his aunt seemed to reward good behaviour with candies, which was always a plus point in his opinion.

Mikoto sighed contently as she glanced over at the bright smile playing on her young nephew's lips. This was probably the fifth time she'd seen him up close and personal, the first four times having been a part of an equally clandestine endeavour. There was a reason her family was considered the tough ones within the clan, and this not just applied to the way they presented their skills in combat. More famous than their excellent usage of the _Sharingan_ on the battlefield, was the family's reputation for following its rules down to the last of their clauses, not letting anyone from within its ambit cast so much as a toe outside the line. Break one family tradition, and you could be in the danger of being excommunicated from the line, never to be looked at twice after the ousting. And from this extensive list of don'ts that made the family rule book, marrying outside the family without permission from the elders was the gravest of sins. Unfortunately for Uchiha Mikoto, her dear elder brother had committed this very crime of falling in love outside limits that could be considered acceptable. On top of that, it hadn't just been a matter of marrying someone from outside the family, rather, it had been an even more morbid affair of marrying someone from outside the _clan. _

This was something the family couldn't have taken lightly.

Severing every single link with the errant Uchiha Shichirou – the man responsible for committing such a grave crime – the family had allowed him to live within the compound, but with one stringent condition attached to their terms. The clan's _dojutsu _was at stake, and there was no way the elders could have allowed a man with a sharingan to be driven out of the compound. With this thought in mind, Shichirou had been allowed to live inside the walls with his little family, but he was to never be seen anywhere near his ancestral grounds. Overnight, relatives become strangers and Uchiha Shichirou's name was blasted off the tapestry that hangs in the shrine of the main household – a proud testament to the family line stretching over many generations. No questions were asked, no goodbyes given, and Uchiha Shichirou had become a past embarrassment that the family had effectively dealt with for the purpose of setting an example.

From a different point of view, however, this very chain of events could be called nothing short of ludicrous. At least, that was what Uchiha Mikoto believed.

Not only had this entire fiasco been responsible for snatching the closest of her siblings from her, but it had also been responsible for denying an innocent young boy a chance at a better life. It was no secret that the orphanage two streets down was anything but a cosy shelter for kids like Obito. Despite the institution having been sponsored by the Hokage's office itself, there was only so much the authorities could do to provide optimal conditions for a holistic upbringing. It was a shame Mikoto had always been bogged down by familial responsibilities when it came to her urge to do something for her nephew. Somewhere down the line, she felt defeated at the hands of these very responsibilities, looking at her life as being driven more by rules than her better judgement.

Letting out a deep sigh, Mikoto ran a hand over her face and tried driving out all negative thoughts. It was better to live in the present and revel in the company of a nephew she hardly got the chance to have a chat with. He was sitting in front of her at present, eyes appraising that little box of chocolates on his lap as if the injury on his knees – that had captured almost all of his attention a couple of minutes back – was nothing but a joke. She chuckled inwardly as she observed him drooling over the box like he hadn't touched food in months.

This thought hit a raw nerve somewhere within her.

"You do get tasty food at the centre, don't you, Obito-kun?" she asked uncertainly, fearing the worst.

Obito quirked an eyebrow at the inquiry, perhaps, caught unawares by the sudden question.

"Yes. Kind of," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Not as tasty as what Shio-baachan makes though," he added.

Mikoto bit her lip. "What if I get you some food every once in a while, whenever it's possible for me to get it?"

"You know how to cook?" came the innocent question.

"I've been told I cook just fine," Mikoto explained, unable to stop herself from grinning. Obito seemed triumphant at the prospect.

"Sure!" he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "That'd be great!"

Mikoto perked up that. The idea of helping her nephew out, even if it was in a very little way of providing for good, home-cooked food seemed to have lessened the burden of guilt in her heart. She surveyed his gleeful smile again, content in the knowledge that she had finally managed to get past some of her greater responsibilities to do something that she should have done a long time back.

However, this assurance was not to be in place for much longer.

Thundering footsteps in the corridor outside her room were the first indication of trouble.

_Are they home this early? _Was the first thought that crossed Mikoto's mind, her body reacting sharply to the sounds coming from the other side of the door. Years of kunoichi training had honed her skills enough to react strongly and swiftly to dangerous stimuli.

"Obito-kun, if you could-" she began, grabbing the bewildered boy by his elbows and trying to drag him towards the _shoji_, but she was to never achieve her target.

Before she could so much as open a creak in the panel to let some fresh air in, the sliding door to her room slid open almost violently, followed by thundering footsteps just a couple of metres behind her. Cussing inside her head, Mikoto turned around on her heels to face the very man she'd been trying to avoid all this evening in light of her plans to stay in touch with her nephew.

"I believe you've some kind of explanation for this?" Uchiha Junichi said through locked teeth, his imposing build befitting a patriarch of such a powerful family. Behind him, one of the lackeys Mikoto couldn't recognise, glanced uncomfortably between the confronting parties. She didn't need a gifted brain to add two and two.

_I should have been a bit more careful, _she thought acidly, cursing herself for her inability to look out for possible obstacles, seeking opportunities for ratting her out to the head of the household. With the kind of reputation she'd in the family, she should have known her father would be more than willing to keep an eye on a daughter who was going through a 'rebellious phase' according to him.

Mikoto could feel Obito shivering from where she was holding onto him. There certainly weren't any pleasant memories with this man involved for him.

"He injured himself. I was only helping him out father," Mikoto ventured, hating herself for sounding so weak when she needed to be anything but that.

"I can see that," Uchiha Junichi said, arms folded over his chest and head nodding curtly in the direction of Obito's bandaged knee. "But any particular reason why you'd go through such lengths to get _him _back into the house, especially when there's an explicit rule against doing anything along those lines?"

There was an uncomfortable pause in which Obito whimpered from between Mikoto's legs. Junichi was not in the mood to provide any kind of comfort to the troubled kid.

"Have you sewed your lips now, young lady?" he asked, when Mikoto refused to open her mouth for another five minutes or so. "Or do I derive my own conclusion?"

Mikoto suddenly found her bare feet very interesting. "He's my nephew and Shichirou-nii's son," she said simply, although she knew this wasn't enough explanation for her father. To her, however, this reason summarised her opinion on the entire family feud.

Junichi bristled upon hearing the forbidden name under his roof.

"How many times do I have to tell you," he began, his voice menacing enough for Obito to shrink an inch into the walls behind. A sudden thud indicated that the box of chocolates had plopped unceremoniously onto the tatami mat underneath. "There is no room for that traitor's name and his son in our house. I think I made this clear a long time back, but you seem to have a problem catching up with instructions, Mikoto."

"I couldn't just leave him on the streets, father. He was bleeding-"

"That is not for you to worry about. He has a staff of around fifty dedicated workers looking after him round the clock," Junichi cut in, voice a notch higher. The maid-servant behind him retreated into the corridor outside.

"And the last time I checked, you were an Uchiha kunoichi, not some social worker."

Mikoto flinched when she felt Obito whimper quietly behind her. The boy did not deserve this.

"Let me drop him at the shelter then," she said, thinking of it as the only way to placate the situation. This way, the boy would be back where he 'belonged' and she would at least get the chance to apologise personally for the trouble caused. Unfortunately, her father was a little too adamant about the 'not to have anything to do with that man' rule.

"Did you not hear what I just said, Uchiha Mikoto," Junichi ground out, his arms snapping to his sides and eyes flashing dangerously. "You're not to have any kind of relations with _this boy,"_ he pointed a trembling finger at the cowering Obito. "Whether it be nursing his wounds or dropping him back at the shelter. Aika!" The servant taking refuge in the corridor outside shuffled back into the room. "-Do the honours."

"Yes Junichi-sama!" the domestic squeaked, before scuttling over to the shrinking duo and grabbing the younger of the two gruffly by his arm.

Obito turned around to look at his aunt one last time, his large watery eyes piercing through to her very soul, before he was harshly driven out of the room.

Mikoto felt something shatter within her – like a substantial space that had been gouged out, making her feel hollow inside. Only a few minutes ago, she'd been promising the world to her little nephew, striving to turn a new page in life, only to be utterly defeated in the hands of reality. She wondered if Obito would ever be able to smile like the way he had in her presence ever again.

"We need to set things straight once and for all," she heard her father say after a minute's pause, the acrimony still evident in his tone. "I'll meet you in my room in five. Not a minute early, not a minute late." With this, he walked briskly out of the room, leaving nothing but emptiness in his wake.

Mikoto stood still for a moment, eyes not daring to hook onto the fallen box of chocolates and the photo frame atop the _kotatsu_. She could still feel Obito's bright presence around the said objects – like a cheerful aura that refused to fade, much to her chagrin. It made her feel remorseful inside-out, and she was certain there was no way those feelings were going to fade anytime soon. For as long as she'd her elder brother's only photograph to fall back on, she wouldn't be able to get past any of the regrets that she had been harbouring for the past seven years of her life. With this new addition to her personal hall of shame, Mikoto was certain even a lifetime wouldn't be enough for her attempts to set things straight.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

A terrified Obito wrested himself free of the maid's vice-like grip once she'd dragged him out on the streets.

Thinking better of turning around and shouting her way, he belted down the streets in a direction opposite to that of the shelter. There was no way he was going back to that place looking this haggard.

With only one destination in mind, he dashed out the gates of the compound, tears threatening to pour out any second. Within, he chided himself for ever having thought about going back into the house.

_I hate all of them, _he decided, a decision that he had made a couple of months back, and a decision that he reinforced today. It was funny how the same set of events could have occurred twice, both in the same sequence.

Getting called in by a supposedly well-meaning relative, and then being kicked out of the house by that scary man with beady eyes and a terrifying voice.

Obito was absolutely certain he wasn't going anywhere near that place ever again.

_When I become Hokage, _he thought instead, hands clenching into fists as he turned a familiar corner to head towards the community park, _I will teach them all a lesson. When I get my sharingan, I'll be the best Uchiha._

He reached up and slid the goggles over his eyes, effectively shielding his watery eyes from the world.

The community park that he was headed towards was a large swath of land sandwiched between the town square and the outskirts of the Uchiha compound. A huge space with several hectares to its name, this park was a perfect spot for cultivating your several outdoor hobbies or simply enjoying a moment of peace by the lake within. For Obito, the community park was the only place where he could make himself feel better after a day badly spent.

Rushing over to a small groove next to the lake – a place so tiny and secluded that it was never in the danger of being run over by civilians – he made himself comfortable on a small ledge of rock that jutted out like a natural bench next to a clump of lilies. This place seemed so far away from civilisation, that Obito sometimes imagined he was in a distant world that was more a part of his dreams than reality. This made him feel a little better in terms of providing him with ample time to weave the wildest of his ambitions. The idea of becoming a Hokage had struck him when he had been sitting on this very ledge a year back, staring at the distant Hokage monument with only thought in mind – would it be better if the workers were to carve his sharingan on top of his goggles, or simply forego the accessory for convenience (he'd decided on the former because he could never think of doing away with his precious goggles – a gift left to him by his late mother)?

Making himself comfortable on the protrusion, Obito jerked his sandals off and let his bare feet touch the cold grass. The resultant shivers up his spine soothed him somewhat.

But this was also a time when unpleasant memories from a few minutes ago flashed before his eyes.

He tried controlling the flood of tears that was threatening to burst at the moment, but it turned out to be too adamant about following its natural path down his cheeks.

He hissed as he felt the hot trails finally pouring out at a tremendous speed, his shoulders shaking as he whimpered uncontrollably in what he assumed was the privacy of his favourite spot.

His wandering hands caught hold of a small but sharp piece of rock, and he flicked it in a random direction with all the strength that he could muster, scaring away a squirrel just a few metres ahead.

"That's not a very nice thing to do."

Obito jerked his head up and looked around wildly, scared out of his skin by this sudden interruption of peace.

"Who is it?" he ground out, not in the mood to allow any newcomers to a spot that he had reserved for himself and marked as his territory.

"You shouldn't harm animals. The squirrel almost died."

There it was again, a soft yet determined voice that seemed to be coming from the cluster of trees up ahead. Obito squinted for better look at the higher branches and wondered if it was physically possible for a person to climb that high up. But then, he thought about shinobis and kunoichis jumping from tree to tree, and for a second, he painted a vivid mental picture of enemy nins hiding in the shadows to look for a right moment to drive a kunai through his throat.

He gulped quite audibly.

"W-who is it?" he asked again, this time with a little less conviction.

There was a sudden rustling of leaves which caused him to clutch the sides of the ledge in fear. A few more seconds passed before a shadowy figure jumped out of a particularly high branch and landed swiftly on its feet.

Obito almost toppled over in surprise.

"W-w-what? w-w-who?" he mumbled incoherently, moulding his hands into fists and holding them out in front of him in the universal posture for defence.

"You look like a scaredy-cat," the newcomer commented, "and that thing I did? It was chakra."

There was a sudden swirl of short burgundy hair before his eyes, and Obito realised that the shadowy figure he had been so afraid of wasn't any inch taller than three feet – that was almost a foot shorter than what his height was.

"Who are you?" he asked again, this time, a certain level of confidence returning to his tone. No one with that kind of height had ever talked to him like that, not even the idiot kids back at the centre.

"I'm my mamma's daughter," came the reply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Her name's Nohara Kaede and she's the greatest medic-nin in Konoha!"

Obito frowned.

"Never heard of her," he scoffed, shrugging his shoulders.

This seemed to rile up the stranger.

"Don't talk about my mamma like that!" she hissed, her hair still bouncing over her face, preventing Obito from having a clear idea of what she looked like. "She's a great kunoichi! Have you never seen a great kunoichi before?"

It was Obito's turn to see red.

"I _have,_" he said, crossing his arms across his chest. "My aunt is a great kunoichi and she is going to give jonin exams very soon!" he regretted saying that almost immediately, because unpleasant memories threatened to bring tears to his eyes yet again.

"My mom's already jonin," came the terse reply, and Obito turned his head away to hide the disappointment at being one-upped by someone a foot shorter than him.

But the sudden movement of his head to the left didn't stop him from casting a sideways glance at the stranger. She'd made a dramatic show of blowing her hair out of her face and was currently standing with her hands on her hips, her face exposed for the world to see.

Obito reluctantly decided he liked what he was seeing.

Round face, plump cheeks, brown eyes with a hint of grey, and two purple stripes across her cheeks with a head of short, burgundy hair. Pretty average, but slightly better than what he was used to seeing at the centre when it came to people of the girl variety.

Pity, he assumed, that the okay features were sitting on top of a nasty tongue and a very annoying habit of barging into other people's secret spots.

"Mamma was right," the girl began, nose pointing high up in the air. "I shouldn't talk to strange boys I've never met. They are always rude, annoying and ill-mannered. I thought I would be nice to you because you were sitting alone in a corner and then you tried killing a squirrel."

"I did not!" Obito hissed, huffing indignantly at the mere suggestion. "I just threw the stone without looking!"

"Which is worse! What if you had acci- acc-_accidently_ killed the squirrel?"

"But I did _not!" _Obito shot back, positively enraged. "I missed, right?"

The girl opened her mouth for a sharp reply, failing which, she sewed her lips tight, simply opting for puffing out air from her nostrils instead.

"You know what? I got into the academy!" Obito continued without missing a beat, as if using this as a means to beat the little girl in her game. Unfortunately, that was not to be the case.

"Me too!" she responded, half enthusiastically, half smugly.

Obito's reaction was equally ambiguous.

"Oh!" he replied, not sure if he were to feel bad for not having found an opening in the argument, or happy that he'd finally managed to have a proper conversation – albeit, a highly confrontational one – with a person who was certain to be his classmate soon. Did that count as them being friends?

_Certainly_ _not_, he decided.

There was no way he was going to be friends with someone who thought he was a squirrel-killer.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes in which both parties stared into something in the distance.

"But you don't seem _that _bad," the girl commented after a few minutes, hands behind her back, feet twiddling and playing with the grass underneath. "I mean you almost harm squirrels, but you don't seem bad. I guess we're going to be classmates soon?"

Obito raised a brow and observed the girl with a sideways glance. He had always been deeply suspicious of girls her size trying to be all nice to him. Heck, he had a reason to do the same! What had his aunt done just a few minutes ago? Then, then was also the fact that the girl had been talking to him like he was some piece of dirt just a few seconds ago, only to have a sudden and dramatic shift in behaviour. And hadn't she just mentioned the squirrel-killing fact again?

"What does that mean?" he decided to ask, narrowing his eyes in distrust and making his voice sound as scary as he could.

The girl clicked her tongue loudly, unaffected by his tone. "Means, we'll meet each other every day, so it's not good to fight. We can help each other with studies after all!"

Obito wasn't convinced.

"You just called me rude, annoying and…and-"

"-ill-mannered."

"-yes! Ill-mannered. Why should I listen to you?"

"Because we're going to be classmates," the girl repeated in a matter-of-fact tone, sounding exasperated. She looked at him as if was mad for not understanding.

Obito's eyebrows dipped in the middle as he tried to comprehend the logic behind it all.

"O-okay," he said, although he hadn't managed to make the connection as yet. He just decided to go with the flow.

"So that means we're friends, right?" the girl asked in a voice that sounded more like a whisper. Obito whipped his head up to look her straight in the eyes and she flinched back a little in response.

"I mean you almost harm squirrels and stuff, but you can always learn not to?" she said as a matter of explanation, shrugging her shoulders. "You must have some good too, like all of us do! We have good points," she pretended to weigh something in her right hand, "-and we have bad points," she weighed something imaginary in her left hand now.

"Mamma says it's better to look at people's good points. This way, we can make good friends."

Obito let out a small 'hmmm' as if he was a part of a deep philosophical conversation. The thing about squirrel harming irked him deeply, but he was no one to reject an offer of friendship that had come walking to him (rather than him trying to seek it in desperation). After all, it wasn't like he had bucketloads of friends to fall back on at the centre or in the playgrounds – unless, you counted rebukes for being loud and messy as parts of conversations between friends, that is.

"Alright," he gave in, letting his shoulders dip a little.

"Okay! Great!" the girl quipped, suddenly all cheerful and seeming two seconds away from bouncing around in joy. "I've to go back home now! Mamma always wants me home before sundown."

Obito 'oohed', before remembering that the head nurse at the centre also required the same of him.

"ME TOO!" he exclaimed with sudden realisation, springing up onto his feet and almost scaring the girl in the process.

"I mean, I also have to make it before sundown," he explained, grinning sheepishly.

The girl nodded and was about to turn around and leave when Obito realised something crucial.

"Wait!" he said all of a sudden, and the girl stopped in her tracks. "I don't know your name!"

"Nohara Rin," came the concise reply.

"I'm-"

"Uchiha Obito."

Obito nodded, before letting a frown settle on his lips.

"Wait. How do you know my name?"

The girl named Rin rolled her eyes and scrunched up her face as if she was about to burst into tears. "_I'm going to teach them all_!" she said in a fake distressed voice. "_I, Uchiha Obito, will be hokage_!" she paused. "That's why. You were saying that out aloud when you were sitting by yourself. You have a big dream."

Obito turned a deep shade of red. _I was saying that? I didn't realise..._

He brought his hand up and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Yeah it's a big dream and I sound stupid-"

"No you don't," all of a sudden, Rin was standing right in front of him, a very serious expression etched onto her face. "That's why I thought you had good points. Hokage is a good person, and if you want to become hokage, you must be a good person!" she seemed impressed with her reasoning.

Obito's eyes sparkled in amazement. No one – apart from a few notable exceptions like Shio-baachan – had taken him seriously about the whole hokage business. To them, it was just a part of his elaborate jokes, an essence of his naughty disposition. But to Obito, it was the dream of a lifetime.

And for a person to respect and accept his dream of a lifetime without so much as an ounce of doubt on their face, they had to be a good person as well, he adduced.

"I think you're right," he said, deeply impressed and looking so. His cheeks had still not managed to dilute the reddish tint.

Rin let a small smile tug at her lips as she looked at him from underneath a thin growth of fringes falling on her forehead. "See you at school tomorrow!" she said, waving two fingers at him, before disappearing into the thick growth of trees up ahead, her steps looking more bouncy and springy with every yard that she covered. Obito continued staring at her back with a dazed expression on his face.

He had come up with a strategy in his head.

_She could be my advisor, _he thought with a grin, impressed by his way of thinking.

_Or, my wife? _

He'd often heard stories about how the Hokage's wives had always been strong figures in the past. Accomplished kunoichis in their fields, they had always been beautiful and strong enough to defeat a group of enemies with only a flick of a kunai. Judging from how the girl had landed so easily from a high branch, and her okay looks, Obito reckoned he could never find a better candidate for this purpose.

Then there was also the fact that she had not said anything about squirrel-killing when talking about his dream to become a hokage.

_Yes, _Obito thought, preparing to retrace his steps back to the centre. It was funny how the entire incident at the Uchiha mansion had now been left behind like a bad memory from a distant past. _I think that's a good idea._

Following this short, yet substantial encounter, Uchiha Obito walked back home with a big grin on his lips, something that a man by the likes of one Uchiha Juunichi wouldn't have approved of. After all, the receptionist at the old age centre had been right about the young boy's associations so far. He had _so far _been open to only a handful of people at the centre, most of whom were old, homeless persons with a need for companionship.

Time, however unfair at certain occasions, had an uncanny way of turning the tables.

* * *

To be continued

* * *

**(A/N): *receptionist; **a kind of a heated, low-lying table in a typical Japanese room; ***paper panel door in a Japanese room; ****alcove in a Japanese room.**

**Just wanted to clarify that Obito's 6 and Rin's 5 at the moment. So please look at their conversation through this lens. Obviously, Obito doesn't understand the meaning of marriage, yet. **

**Some clarifications I think I should make for better comprehension:**

**1. Kakashi might be four years old, but he's a gifted kid. His speech pattern and mannerisms will be remarkably different from other kids his age. Not that I've a PhD in child behaviour and language, but I'm certainly taking hints from a young cousin who's gifted in linguistic abilities. She can talk like an adult and she's hardly four.**

**2. About Sandaime's age. I've made slight changes to the timeline that I was initially going to proceed with, eliminating the problem I was facing regarding his age in relation to the councillors and Sakumo (considering the two have kids almost the same age). That should be evident when I publish the timeline as a kind of an appendix to this story.**

**3. About the pairings. Canon pairings remain, so you'll certainly have Minakushi, Yahikon and the parents (ShikakuXYoshino, MikotoXFugaku etc.). But as far as the main pairing is concerned, I haven't decided yet. I mean, I'm the kind who's perpetually confused about the whole Kakarin/Obirin thing. I love BOTH (ALTHOUGH, I tend to lean a little more towards Kakarin), so I'm really not sure which way I'd be leaning eventually. So don't be surprised if I end up choosing one over the other because I love having a little bit of romance in my stories. Having said that, this fic is primarily about friendship, so this particular aspect of relationships will take precedence over romance. **

**Next chapter will most probably be shorter in length and will focus entirely on the Ame orphans. They are an important part of the story, after all.**

**Thank you for the support you have shown so far! I appreciate it! Also, please don't forget to drop in a review to let me know how I've been doing so far :)**


	3. A Drizzle of Faith, a Torrent of Despair

**(A/N): This chapter has been written in italics because it's entirely a flashback (this _is _a NARUTO fanfiction, after all). Hope that isn't too...troublesome.**

**Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.**

* * *

**-Chapter Three-**

**A Drizzle of Faith, a Torrent of Despair**

* * *

_11 years ago|Amegakure_

_He trudged along the muddy tracks for about a year, bony legs dragging endlessly across a blood-strewn landscape. With only a scroll in one hand, and half a piece of something edible in the other, he made his journey through a treacherous terrain that refused to be given respite from the endless pitter-patter of the rain._

_Often, he came across a stray animal or two, making its way helplessly through the deserted landscape the way he had been doing since burying his parents in the backyard of their house. It'd been a short, uneventful ceremony; consisting of him dragging their limp forms over the withered grass towards a pit he had dug with his bare hands. His fingers had bled, and bled profusely at that, but there was no way he could have let their bodies rot in a place they had once called home. Sending them prayers had been a tough procedure, but the memory was now buried into the distant past like a simmering wound that had clotted over, only to have been kept alive within the seemingly healed layers._

_Seeing the world from a different perspective, Nagato realised that one way or the other, this was his first time seeing Amegakure in all its glory – albeit, a very bloody and terrifying glory – and he was amazed to note how big his homeland actually was. He'd often heard people say something along the lines of Ame being the smallest hidden village in all of shinobi world, but travelling through the undulating valleys and vast plains, Nagato had been left with no doubt that his home was anything but small. Despite the uniformity in weather patterns, there seemed to be no such regularity in its physical composition. The landscape was a unique amalgamation of plains and plateaus, with occasional mountain ranges breaking their steady rhythm, and the greenery was purely a miracle to behold._

_And one aspect of it that never separated itself from this endless terrain – the persistent rainfall, of course._

_Sometimes, Nagato wondered if these were war victims shedding tears from the skies; Kimiko, papa and mamma, all bundled up together after their lives had been tragically cut short, weeping for relatives left behind in a place that was nothing short of hell on earth._

_Suddenly, the prospect of reaching up to the grey skies presented itself as a brighter option over covering the unending plains before his eyes._

_Yet, Nagato persevered, walking on without a break for a reason that he couldn't explain to himself. It felt akin to a persistent presence in the back of his mind that urged him forward and provided the required energy to his withering muscles. Sometimes, he wondered if there was some kind of a magnetic force pulling him forward, towards a destination that was waiting for him out there on the battlefield, its purpose for doing so, unknown and seemingly ludicrous. Of course the idea excited him somehow, making every step that he took worth it at the end of the day, but Nagato was old enough to realise that this tiny ray of hope filtering in through the minuscule chink in the clouds was nothing but an elaborate mirage._

_An illusion, which unbeknownst to him, was destined to be shattered in exactly four years from that point._

"_Are you hungry, chibi?" he asked of his newly christened travelling companion – a tiny dog with pointed ears and bony paws that had been following him around for almost a week now – as he made his way through an area covered with nothing but wet mud and small patches of shrubbery._

_The dog looked up at him with wide, watery eyes and emitted a low whine like noise that cut through Nagato's heart like a sharp knife. He reckoned their feelings to be mutual._

_He looked guiltily at the edible looking thing in his hands – the one he'd been holding for the past two hours – and thought about the best way to divide it in such a manner so as to suffice the two of them for the next week or so._

_He decided against there being any such possibility when his stomach issued a deep rumble, and broke the thing into a clean half._

"_Here," he said, placing one piece into the dog's mouth and munching on the other. It was something raw and soggy, but Nagato was pretty sure it wasn't poisonous. At least, that was what he could make of the first bite he took._

_He continued down the muddy terrain for an endless period after that, occasionally stopping by a dirty looking stream to gather some water into a canteen he'd nicked from a scene of carnage a few days behind. It'd been one of those typical battlegrounds strewn with carcasses missing one body part or the other (and the occasional kunai through the head, of course), and Nagato had no qualms about divesting one such headless body of its war time resources – which had been meagre in quantity, but excellent in quality. Equipped with a couple of strange looking pills and a tattered bottle of water, Nagato had picked on his journey from the blood filled scene to make his way through to another such scene, over and over again. He'd walked through so many of such situations since the beginning of his journey, that eight year old Nagato could safely say he'd become somewhat of an expert at understanding how the battle might have proceeded simply by looking at the way the bodies had been mangled and thrown across the fields. He was confident that he had reached a point where it was easy to tell if a battle had been an open, confrontational affair or a one waged in the shadows in the form of a guerrilla warfare._

_Chuckling for no apparent reason, he continued his perilous journey through the soulless plains with only destination in sight – the horizon._

_On the twenty-something day of his travel (counting unsurely from the day he'd come across Chibi), Nagato came to the conclusion that he could walk no longer. With the added burden of the large scroll hampering his already shaky movements, Nagato fell head first onto the ground with his arms splayed wide across the muck filled ground. _

_Despite the fact that he had miraculously stumbled upon abandoned pieces of bread and raw vegetables every once in a while in his journey so far, he still decided he wasn't left with enough energy to traverse the uneven landscape lying before his tired eyes. Chibi barked helplessly and urged him forward with a soft poke of his nose, but Nagato seemed to have lost all sensation in the parts that the little dog stroked for the sole purpose of getting him on his feet._

"_I…can't…Chibi," he whispered through quivering lips, raising a weak finger as if to chide the dog into relenting, but the little animal was anything but submissive. To Nagato, persistence seemed like a miraculous feat coming from the dog, considering how the poor creature hadn't had anything more than a few bites of stale bread and three or four squished vegetables/fruits that had been rotten beyond recognition. _

"_No…" he tried again, but suddenly Chibi started barking at the top of his lungs, head cocked up to look at something over Nagato's shoulders. _

_Only, Nagato did not have the strength left to turn around and examine the source of Chibi's sudden anxiety._

_He decided to lie there like an old log – and he was surely feeling like one. His breathing had dropped down to a silent whimper and his lower body felt like a dead weight that he though the would surely have been better off without._

"_Here, have some of this," a gentle voice cut through to him, and the very next second, a piece of delicious smelling fresh bread was hooked underneath his nose._

_Nagato couldn't figure how was able to garner enough energy to jerk his shoulders in surprise. His eyes widened slightly, but he was unable to pitch his hands into the ground to hoist himself up from the sludge that he'd fallen over in his exhaustion._

_A warm hand found its way to his shoulders and suddenly, a gentle pull enabled him to distance his torso from the ground. An ugly squelching sound issued when the rags he wore for clothes, divested themselves of the muddy puddle on the ground._

_Chibi continued with his barking tirade, but he too had little energy left to do anything about this sudden intrusion._

"_Are you okay? Are you hurting?"_

_That voice again. A sweet, female voice. Nagato squinted his eyes for a better look, now that he wasn't facing the dirt on the ground, but the lights at the back of his eyes had dimmed somewhat._

"_Yes…" he said simply, lying still in the warmth of the stranger's arms that were not much bigger than his._

"_Here, have some bread first. Don't worry, I mean no harm. My friend and I can treat your wounds later."_

Wounds? _Nagato wondered, not remembering getting hurt. But then, he hadn't really been conscious of a lot of things happening to his body of late. Things just seemed to be happening of their own accord, and he felt like a passive recipient to whatever nature had been throwing at him over the past few months._

_So instead of pondering much over what this sudden shift in his situation meant, and whether or not the stranger meant good – which seemed like a ridiculous doubt because the warmth coming from her was definitely reassuring – Nagato opened his mouth wide enough to fit the absolutely delicious piece of bread._

_Come to think of it, it had been nearly two years since he had eaten a piece of bread smeared with some butter._

_He kept chowing down on the piece till he was halfway through and then he was suddenly reminded of the little fellow beside him, wagging his tail in anticipation._

"_Give some to him," Nagato said to the stranger, her face concealed in the shadow of the light that was falling onto the back of her head. He lifted a weak finger and pointed it in the direction of the still barking dog by his side._

_The stranger nodded and gave the other half of the bread to Chibi, who practically snatched the piece and flitted off to munch on his hard earned treat a little distance away, rolling about in the mud in sheer excitement._

_Nagato managed to pull his lips up into a small but contented smile. It'd been a good number of days since he'd last seen Chibi this enthusiastic about fresh food in his mouth. _

"_Thank you," he managed to say in a croaky whisper, eyes still squinting to see through the haze that had settled over them. _

"_Come, I'll help you get up," a pair of strong yet delicate hands grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him up with the slightest of tugs. Nagato winced a little with the sudden movement that made his weak body squirm, but he bit his lips and attempted to hold onto the frayed ends of his consciousness._

"_Did I hurt you?" the stranger asked with concern lacing her tone, halting her actions in favour of cupping the back of his head and helping him come to a stable, upright position._

"_N-no," Nagato managed to say through locked teeth, his head suddenly feeling a whole lot heavier. Even the slightest ray of sunlight through the grey clouds was enough to make him feel like he was lacking energy._

"_Here, hold onto my hand," a tiny hand was offered, and Nagato took it without much hesitation, not before exerting a sufficient amount of pressure to perform such an action. There seemed to be absolutely no energy left inside his body, and it certainly felt as if weeks' worth of exhaustion had finally caught up with him._

_The stranger managed to understand and see the struggle that he had to go through and immediately braced a hand against his lower back, straightening him further. _

"_Easy." Was all she said, supporting his weight almost entirely now, but struggling with the added burden herself._

"_Come. We aren't that far away." _

_She paused for a brief moment to collect the scroll that had slipped out his hands upon impact, and her knees wobbled ever so slightly when she slung it around her shoulders in such a manner so as to make it possible for her to support the nearly unconscious person on her side._

_It took Nagato all the willpower that he could muster to even put a step forward. His body felt like a sack that had been filled with big pieces of stones and every movement that he made, every muscle that he willed to operate, cost him a part of his consciousness. _

"_Almost there."_

_He could feel the ground underneath his feet slipping. The slushy consistency that he'd been experiencing against his soles just a few moments ago had transformed into something more concrete, but that didn't make his steps feel any less precarious. It was as if a new miracle was being performed every time that he took a step forward._

_Chibi was still barking in the distance, his voice a little muffled, but present nonetheless. However, despite his endless tirade against god knows what, the poor creature had managed to lessen its hostility towards the stranger for the latter had been generous enough to provide him with a piece of bread._

"_Welcome back! Wait what? Are these additions to the family now?"_

_A new voice – slightly croaky and male – sounded in the distance, and Nagato simply clung to his saviour like a leech to human flesh. He had no idea where he was and he had no wish to inquire. His brain seemed to be processing things a little slower than usual._

"_Do you have _any idea _how much that is going to cost us?" the second voice again. _

"_But he was starving to death! He's just like us! He can become one of us!"_

_There was a beat of silence, broken only when the objector clicked his tongue._

"_Alright fine!" he said, sounding irritated but not bitter. There was a great deal of shuffling within what Nagato assumed to be a cave like area, and the next instance, a second pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulders._

"_Let's lay him there."_

_Slowly but steadily, Nagato was practically dragged over the damp surface of the cave like area to a makeshift bed made out of rags and straws. Chibi followed him loyally to the spot, still barking, irking the taller of the two unknown figures._

"_Shut up!" he sang over his shoulder, clicking his tongue again. "Sheesh! This looks like a shitload of trouble!"_

_The girl on Nagato's right giggled._

"_Everything will be fine, Yahiko. Don't worry about it, we'll make it through."_

_There was a grunt of disapproval again, but it was let out only for the purpose of putting up a consistent front._

_A few more steps forward and Nagato could feel himself being lowered onto a rough yet pleasantly warm surface that smelt of wet grass. There was a sharp pang of pain in his joints with the sudden movement, but Nagato was not one to complain. Not when he was being provided with a shelter and a bed – no matter how far away from an actual bed it felt – at a time when he couldn't have expected travelling a day further without washing his hands off life itself._

"_Do you think he'll live?" he could hear the boy named Yahiko say, concern lacing his tone for the first time. His voice had dropped a pitch lower and sounded completely different from the tone he'd been using just a few seconds ago._

"_I think so. Let's give him something to eat," there was a great deal of shuffling again, and Nagato thought he heard the sounds of utensils being passed around. Chibi sniffed his way up from his torn pants to his pallid skin as if inspecting, and Nagato was tempted to raise his hand and stroke his companion on its tiny head. Unfortunately, his current levels of energy couldn't permit him to carry out his wishes._

"_I'm fine," he said, turning his head to where Chibi was currently nestled, licking his cheeks with much fervour. He let a small smile pull his lips up on one side._

"_You speak dog language?" _

_The boy named Yahiko was back. At least, that was what Nagato could make of the connection he had made between this new name and the voice. Apart from this auditory stimulus, there wasn't much that Nagato could see through the thick fog that had settled before his eyes._

"_I don't…think so."_

_There was a short pause._

"_Hey doggy! Want some fish?" Yahiko said then, talking to Chibi, of course. There was a hint of curiosity in his tone._

_Chibi instantly barked his approval and wagged his tail with alacrity._

"_Holy shit! Did you see that Konan? It talked back! Barked back, I mean."_

_There was that pleasant sound again. The sound of the girl giggling a short distance away. _

"_Yes, I can see that," she said, sounding amused herself. There was the tinkle and clatter of utensils again, and it was only a second later that Nagato smelt something delicious simmering a few steps away._

"_Y-you can cook?" he said to no one in particular, taken aback. Judging from the way the newcomers' hands had felt against his shoulders – and their relative heights, which weren't significantly different from his – Nagato had come to the conclusion that his saviours didn't have all that many years on him. Back home, he had never been allowed anywhere near the kitchen, so this was all rather new to him._

_There was a light giggle again. _

"_Not really. I try. I remember how my mother used to cook and follow through. We really don't have a choice here," the girl named Konan said, over the sound of something frying presumably on a pan._

_Nagato did not say anything after that, lying helplessly on top of the makeshift bed like he'd been glued to the spot. His limbs felt like they weren't his anymore, and his head suddenly seemed to have put on pounds. That was one possible explanation for the sensation inside him that made him feel like he was being pulled into the earth, tethered and bound. Then there were also his eyes that were perpetually being draped by lids that refused to get any lighter, blocking what little vision his remaining strength could grant him with._

"_Ouch," he mumbled to himself, almost as a late reaction to the pounding deep inside his head that only intensified with time._

"_Where d'yeah come from?" Yahiko was hovering over him, or that was what Nagato could make of the sudden shadow that had fallen across him, blocking even the faint rays of light coming in from the cracks present on the roof of the cave like area. This hampered his sight further._

"_North district," was Nagato's short and precise reply. Funnily, the more he tried remembering the village he'd spent all his lifetime in, the less he could recall of its geography and composition. It was if that particular section of memory had been gouged out of his conscious after what had occurred in the very place he'd thought to be the safest haven he could have ever stayed at._

_There was a murmur that sounded like 'Northerners' coming from Yahiko's mouth. Only, it was not uttered with a contemptuous tone, just a curious one._

"_I come from the South. Konan too," he said then. "And from what I've heard, it rains heavier there. If that's even possible."_

_Nagato was suddenly reminded of the kind of rainfall his village used to receive and shuddered. If the constant pitter-patter had been troublesome to him at several occasions – considering how his mother and the mothers of his other playmates would drag their group by the ears back into their homes almost every single time that it rained – Nagato did not wish to think what it would have been like for his counterparts in the South._

"_It was hell even before the war. But my friends and I managed to make it pretty interesting," there was a note of pride in his tone. "What's your name, by the way? I'm Yahiko."_

"_N-Nagato."_

"_And the dog?"_

"_Chibi."_

"_What a lame name. Who names a dog_ Chibi?"

_Nagato felt that was particularly rude, considering how Yahiko could obviously make the connection and figure out that the person he'd levied the little complaint against was lying right in front of him, but then he did not have enough energy to delve deeper into the issue. _

_Besides, he had finally received some form of companionship – no matter how small – and he was not going to throw that away over dog names._

"_Supper's ready!"_

_As if to prove that point, the smell of something delicious wafted over to him and teased him under his nostrils. Nagato could feel drool slipping out of his mouth as a sudden reaction to a kind of stimulus that had been stranger to him since his mother's death._

_He was suddenly reminded of the wholesome meals his mamma would prepare for him every weekend, showering him with kisses and feeding him with her own hands._

_The pain came crashing back with a force Nagato was sure he couldn't handle even if his life depended on it._

_Sucking in air through his clenched teeth, he felt his heart give a painful lurch as if it had crumpled in on itself. The pain was there – a physical phenomenon that was powerful enough to deal him a physical blow. His chest constricted of its own accord, eliciting a choked sob that he couldn't have had the energy to stop from escaping._

_Days and months of repression had now given away to the hollow reality that he'd been trying hard to avoid for over a year._

_The wound had reopened._

"_Is something the matter?" he could hear Yahiko say, his body turning stiff against the curious stranger who'd suddenly broken down before his eyes. One second he was lying prone on the makeshift bed and making small talk, the other, he was fighting back tears that threatened to snatch even the little of consciousness that he was struggling to hold onto._

"_Oi! Take it easy! What happened?"_

_But Nagato paid no heed._

_The tears came, and they came hard – as if making up for all those months that he'd refused to let the harsh claws of reality sink in. _

"_I'm sorry! Was it something we did?" the girl named Konan was upon him next, sounding out of breath and worried. But her voice too faded into the background as the lights at the back of Nagato's eyes, faded to blackness._

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

"_He's burning. Let's place a cold strip of cloth on his forehead."_

"_This is the last of fresh water that we have. It isn't cold."_

"_Doesn't matter! Something needs to be done!"_

"_He has a bottle on him. We can work with that."_

"_Great! Let's get started then!"_

_Something cold was being pressed onto his temple and Nagato was faintly aware of voices buzzing constantly in his ears. It felt like an irritant at first – sounding incessantly when he wanted to listen to it the least, but it was also the string that attached him to the real world._

_Not that he was particularly interested in remaining conscious in the first place._

"_Here, this is the final one. Is it working?"_

_There was some shuffling around him and the supposed wet cloth on his forehead was replaced by a warm hand._

"_I think so."_

_Nagato's lids fluttered with the sudden contact of the warm body._

"_Hey Konan! He's up!"_

_His eyes flew open as if he'd woken up from a terrible dream in the middle of deep slumber. Back arched sharply against the rickety bed of straws, Nagato almost wheezed his way back to consciousness, bursting into a series of coughs that sent him reeling on the floor._

"_Oi! Oi! Water!" a frantic male voice sounded, and the next second, cold liquid went running down his throat, giving him some semblance of relief. _

_He spluttered into his hands._

"_Easy!" the girl he remembered as Konan said, running a soothing hand over his back._

"_Where am I?" was the first question that came out of Nagato's mouth, his mind suddenly conscious of what had transpired the last time he'd barely been awake. He vaguely remembered being carried into a sheltered area and hearing two people named Konan and Yahiko talk. He swiftly turned to his right and had a clear look at the two people he had been aware of as disembodied voices before he passed out._

_A head of blue and orange greeted him, followed by tiny gasps and widened eyes._

"_His eyes!" the boy with orange hair and clear blue eyes said, his mouth agape._

"_They are…they are-" the girl with blue hair and grey eyes said, a tiny hand covering her mouth._

_Nagato was suddenly reminded of a scene from roughly four years ago – a scene that had always been somewhat of a bad memory to him. The first time he'd set foot outside his house to play with his new friends from the neighbourhood, he'd been shunned because of how scary his eyes looked. Nagato had always been particularly bitter about having the pair – an eerie shade of light purple with a ripple like pattern surrounding his pupil. His friends had called him a freak – a ghost that had been awaken from the graves, and he'd always been the last one to get selected whenever the boys decided to split themselves into teams for ball games. While they had learned to be a little more civil and friendly over time, involving him more in their activities and letting him lead the teams on rare occasions, they had never been particularly comfortable around him – or rather, his strange eyes. Even the elders hadn't been warm in terms of their acceptance of his glaring deformity._

_Finding himself in a similar situation, and being reminded of a defect that he'd been particularly shameful of at a time when he needed the least of that feeling of shame, Nagato almost decided to jump out of bed and make his exit._

_However, there were two things that stopped him. One was the ache in his joints that was a result of severe fatigue._

_The other was the reaction he received when the girl named Konan completed her sentence._

"_They are…they are…_beautiful…"

_Yahiko nodded his approval almost immediately._

_Unable to say a word in response – for sound seemed to have died somewhere deep inside his throat – Nagato stared dumbfounded at his two saviours in front._

"…_what?"_

"_You've very pretty eyes!" Konan broke the silence that issued for a painfully long time after Nagato's request for repetition._

"_They are unlike anything I've ever seen!" Yahiko added, his own eyes as wide as saucers in amazement._

"_Oh." Was the only thing Nagato said, his mouth slightly open. So much for expecting the worse._

"_Does that run in your family?"_

"_No."_

"_Is your eyesight_ _normal?"_

"_Yes. I think so."_

"_Can you see through the back of your head?"_

"_No."_

_There was pin-drop silence again, punctuated only by the tiny gasps that were Yahiko and Konan's doings. _

_Nagato cleared his throat and decided to change the topic, for the constant ogling was unnerving him a little despite the good intention._

"_Where's Chibi?" Now that was a legitimate question in his opinion. A second after gasping his way to consciousness, the only other living being that Nagato had been conscious of was the dog that had followed him around for nearly twenty days. He'd been expecting him to be barking incessantly by his side, licking his cheeks like he usually did to urge him on._

"_He's outside, playing in the mud," Yahiko said after a minute's pause, nodding in the direction of what looked like a hole in the wall some yards away._

_Nagato squinted his eyes for a better look._

"_Oh."_

"_Yeah…I kinda asked him if he wanted to poop or something. Since this is our living quarter, I reckoned I should take him outside. He fell in love with the muddy ground I guess." He shrugged his shoulders._

"_Did you give him something to eat?"_

_This time, Konan stepped in to answer the question._

"_Yes we did, but it is you who needs to be fed first." She pressed a bowl of something delicious smelling under his nose for punctuation. _

_Nagato recoiled quite prominently upon being suddenly saddled with wholesome food._

"_Does it not look good?" Konan asked, sounding a little hurt as she noticed the expression on his face. Nagato turned a bright shade of red._

"_N-no! I didn't mean to…" he looked at the girl guiltily, wondering how to tell her about what good food reminded him of. He felt his heart give a painful lurch again._

"_We have some bread as well…if you don't want this-"_

"_No! I'll take it," extending his hand towards the chipped bowl, Nagato passed a genuine smile to Konan._

"_Thank you."_

_He looked at the contents that simmered inside, causing a small growl to ring through the bottom half of his torso. He took a bite._

_As expected, it turned out to be a pure piece of heaven._

"_This is good," he said warmly, and Konan sported a slight tinge of pink on her cheeks._

"_Thank you."_

_He ate in silence for a while after that, his body replenishing with every bite that he took. It'd been so long since he had had something cooked to eat and the response he got from his growling tummy was in favour of this new development. His head, which had been feeling like a boulder just a few moments before the blackout, had suddenly lost a couple of pounds, giving him the assurance that he would be able to get onto his feet again._

_He looked around the small cave like area he'd been brought to as he munched his way to good health._

"_Where did you get all that stuff from?" he was ogling the wide assortment of items that were clustered in a corner, looking a little too extravagant for a residence that was more like a hole in the mountains (and inhabited by two kids, no less). There was a crate which possibly contained food items, a makeshift burner which consisted of a pile of woods topped by a cooking rig like structure that involved a lot of stones and branches. A motley bunch of utensils surrounded the strange looking apparatus and a huge bundle of rugs and straws lay to the left of the wooden crate._

_Yahiko rubbed the back of his head._

"_We kinda nicked stuff from here and there," he said with a sheepish grin on his face. "That's the only way to go about these days," he added as a sort of justification for their act of stealing._

_Nagato was too impressed to be bothered by something so inevitable. The cooking rig with its complex structure of twigs and logs had stolen all his attention._

"_Who made that thing?" he asked of his two saviours, eyes appraising the apparatus._

"_Both of us," Konan replied, shrugging her shoulders. "My mom taught me how to do it once and I asked Yahiko for some help. We managed well, I suppose."_

_Nagato was left speechless. Managed well? That thing looked brilliant to him._

_He was about to ask them a few more relevant questions about their current location when he was interrupted by Chibi who had come bouncing back into the cave, drenched from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail in wet mud._

_Yahiko screamed his head off at him when he noticed the dog moving towards a bundle of torn rugs._

"_OI! AWAY FROM THEM!" he bellowed, chasing the poor creature with a twig in hand, making the dog gallop around the small area in circles._

_Nagato could not hold back the giggle that slipped out of his mouth upon taking in the scene._

_He was surprised when the sound of his own delighted voice reached his ears, making him wonder exactly how long it had been since he'd last found anything remotely funny. He could not remember a time when he'd chuckled without a care in the world, especially at a time when the probability of him staying alive was nothing but a wild guess. Beside him, Konan had joined him in observing Yahiko scuttling about inside the cave with a stick in hand, laughing as she clapped at Chibi's antics._

_Surely, they weren't just in the middle of a war._

_Not now. At least._

_Nagato sighed and turned to look at his soiled hands, noticing how the lines had been blurred with the amount of dirt that had settled onto them. His mother had once told him how a person's life could be determined by the lines that graced their palms, giving away such details as how long they would live and what kind of a life they would lead. Looking at his hands marred by filth to a point where he couldn't make out the paleness of his skin, Nagato chuckled at the accuracy of it all at the moment._

_But then, he spotted a tiny bowl of water lying right next to him on the makeshift bed and his eyebrows rose._

_Curiosity taking the better of him, he picked up the bowl and poured some water from it onto his left palm, observing how the liquid made the topmost layer of dirt particles dance around until they vanished completely, revealing a little bit of his skin underneath. He raised the fingers of his other hand to rub at the grimy surface._

"_Is something bothering you?" Konan asked him, her voice a whisper in his ears, and Nagato shook his head fervently._

"_No. I'm fine," he said truthfully, as he now stared at his dirt-less palm with parted lips and round eyes._

_He then turned to look at Yahiko chasing a dripping Chibi away from their only stock of clothes and rugs._

_A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips._

_His mind raced back to the moment when he'd been lying prone somewhere in the outside world, eyes drooping and consciousness fading. He'd felt all alone and burdened by the reality that he'd suppressed for about a year. He had had enough time to think through things, face the truth and gulp it down as the bitter pill to move forward. However, to his utter misfortune, his coping mechanisms had never urged him to do anything about confronting that reality. He had buried his parents without putting much thought into what he had really been doing, and that was what had reduced him to tears upon taking in the fragrance of Konan's dish for the first time. _

_Sitting here with three companions who had managed to sooth the ache in his heart somewhat, Nagato marvelled at the course of his actions – actions that led him to trust his life in the hands of two strangers so easily, and then sitting with them in their little hideout as if he'd belonged to that group since forever. He looked at the persons concerned with a kind of longing in his eyes, his heart finally making him realise what he'd been missing the past one year. _

_He was surprised when he realised how easy it'd been for his two possible new friends to drive away the sadness that had been eating away at his heart, warming their way up with just a little introduction and a bowl of stew. _

_He thought back to the time when he'd been curious about that persistent presence in the back of his mind that had urged him on for the better part of the year. He then looked at a smiling Konan, a worked-up Yahiko and a cheerful Chibi, before raising his hands to observe the lines that had begun to appear on his hands underneath all the dirt._

_Nagato decided he liked what he was seeing._

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

_He had seen him bury his parents, his tiny frame dragging their larger bodies to a pit he had struggled to dig with his bleeding fingers._

_He had seen it all._

_He had been in the shadows when the intruders from Leaf had been on the offensive, slicing their kunais through the bodies of that Uzumaki woman and her husband, ending their pathetic lives in a slash and making it easier for him to weave through his plans._

_He had seen it all._

_He had been the one to give that boy his gift – a gift that he had despised all his life, thinking of it as a curse that had befallen his luckless self – but lord did he have not a single idea about the worth those eyes carried, and the honorary service that he would have to eventually perform for his saviour._

_He had seen it all._

_He had been gliding behind him like the shadow that he was, making sure he would always be capable of making his journey across Ame, blessing him with such opportunities as a lucky piece of bread or vegetable that he would occasionally stumble across on his way._

_He had seen it all._

_He had plucked out potential threats on the way like the little thorns that they had been – an occasional troop of enemy fighters or a band of thugs that would have robbed the child of his life had they not been stopped – all for that one purpose of letting the boy live to fulfil a destiny set in his blood._

_He had seen it all._

_Draped in black like the shadow that he represented, he looked across the rocky terrain at the boy warming up to his new friends – a surprising companionship that unlike what the little Uzumaki thought, had not been the result of a generous stroke of luck._

_The little boy had been living in these very shadows all his life._

_Shadows that had guided him around through the undulating plains of his carefully crafted existence, embracing him and showing him a way that he'd willingly followed. Soon enough, they would swallow him completely._

_He allowed himself a smile when he realised this meant a mission half done - the other half still in its infancy, but surely present. His lord would be pleased._

_He congratulated himself on this little achievement and set off to bring the other half into motion, his mind making all the necessary calculations that had been fed into him a long time back, drawing out a table of all the risks involved and how he would be dealing with them in the near future._

_His name was Tobi and he had seen it all._

* * *

To be continued

* * *

**(A/N): I thought this chapter would take longer to complete, but well, I guess I was a little too excited about writing this part.**

**Is this 'Tobi' guy really the person who we think he is (and should be)? Well, all I can say is keep the guesses coming. Might I remind you that Obito was not even born when Nagato was extending a hand of friendship towards Yahiko and Konan. Shall I call this the beginning of those several divergences that will be occurring throughout the story?**

**I know Ame is supposed to be a ninja 'village' with all those creepy looking buildings and shit, but I kinda took the liberty to include the surrounding areas in its territory as well. Like that city with buildings is supposed to be the centre/capital (a place that Nagato hasn't visited yet), while the surrounding mountains and stuff are like its extended outskirts/border/neighbouring lands in the same country. The official map shows Ame as a small country sandwiched between the lands of Fire and Earth. And since we don't have an official record stating the exact dimensions and demography of this village (not that I know of), I decided to play around with facts.**

**Do review. Like seriously. Coz if you don't, I'll have nothing to fall back on as a source of inspiration for writing the chapters to come. This story is going to be of an epic proportion (hopefully), touching the lives of SEVERAL characters (don't worry though. Team Minato is the star of this show) and all I ask of you is to drop something into that box down there to spur me on! I know I don't need to spell this out, but reviews do give ideas to the authors and helps them make creative changes throughout the story as it progresses.**

**A big thanks to all those of who **_**have **_**reviewed so far! You guys are the reason I'm so pumped up about writing this story at the moment!**

**Next up: Back to the present with Orientation Day at the Ninja Academy! Team Minato meets for the first time and someone's not happy about the stifling environment and a certain latecomer ;)**


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